Impetum Terrae -- Attack on Earth
by MarauderGirl777
Summary: A futuristic dystopian story that follows Reiner Braun as he and his comrades join the experimental 'Titan Program' to fight off the alien threat that has taken over most of the planet. Action, Sci-fi, Tragedy, Drama, Romance. You'll find it all here. Some notable pairings: Reikuri, Yumikuri, BertAnnie. FULL plot and important information listed in first chapter!
1. Prologue: Feed the Machines

"**Impetum Terrae - Attack on Earth."**

**Rating: **M

**Characters: **Reiner Braun (Captain, Marines)

Historia Reiss (military nurse, president's daughter)

Bertholdt Hoover (Master Gunnery Sergeant, Marines)

Annie Leonhart (Special Agent, Secret Service)

Ymir Wikstrom (Private First Class, Marines)

Eren Jaeger (Private First Class, Marines)

Mikasa Ackerman (Sergeant, Marines)

Armin Arlert (Logistics, Private First Class, Marines)

Sasha Braus (Private First Class, Marines)

Connie Springer (Private First Class, Marines)

Jean Kirschtein (Private First Class, Marines)

Marco Bodt (Private First Class, Marines)

Levi Ackerman (Colonel, Marines)

Hange Zoe (Brigadier General, Marines)

Erwin Smith (General, Marines)

Dot Pixis (Admiral, Coast Guard)

Nile Dok (Director, Secret Service)

Darius Zackly (Vice President)

Rod Reiss (President)

*Other characters will be mentioned in the story. NOTE: These are real existing ranks in the military. I didn't make any of this up.*

**Soundtrack: **Various songs from the band Red. Each chapter title is the title of one of their songs and it's highly recommended those songs are played with each chapter.

**Plot: **In the late 1900s, alien creatures began to pop out of the earth, originating from volcanoes in the east, with one goal in mind: infestation. No one knew where they came from: if they'd been planted in the earth millennia ago, or if their origins were in the earth's core. Two continents, the Americas, acted more quickly than the rest of the world - they destroyed every volcano, starting in the states, with nuclear bombs. No one knew for sure if it would stop these creatures from their eventual take-over, but it seemed to keep the west safe, at least for the time being - but not without cost... Many of the weak, including children and elderly, died from the radiation left over by the bombs. The rest were quickly given a special antidote to keep their bodies strong against the poison. Meanwhile, these aliens, which humans dubbed "Tyrannos"( latin for "tyrant") ran rampant in the east, killing and feeding on all human life. There were a few humans from Europe, Asia, Africa, and Australia who acted quickly enough to get out while they still could - most of them being government officials and/or wealthy.

The Americas became a melting pot of all ages, races, languages, and cultures. Things were tense and the differences between the citizens caused all kinds of chaos, sometimes ending in lives lost... Until a new military came to power, assembled by a mixture of the United States' president, congress, and world leaders who'd sought refuge there. All these leaders made the decision to unify their armies. This new military, called "the Garrison," was a well-oiled, cohesive fighting machine made up of the best remaining soldiers from around the world. They brought order to the Americas and kept the borders safe from the Tyrannos trying to cross the seas.

But population was becoming a problem. The States especially were becoming too crowded. It was time to take back the rest of the planet. The Garrison divided into groups; one to protect the leaders of the world (the Secret Service), one to protect the borders(The Coast Guard), and one to go across the seas and fight the Tyrannos (the Marine Corps).

It is now the year 2099 - over 100 years after the initial attack. This story follows one soldier - Captain Reiner Braun - who was celebrated amongst his peers, praised by superiors, and was possibly looking at a promotion to Major. He was given medals for valor and exemplary service. But after a mission overseas on the border of Africa, he was badly injured while trying to save his comrades. A bomb went off and he threw himself on top of it to save his team. An emergency copter arrived within a few hours, but Reiner was near-death. Receiving emergency treatment along the way, the helicopter delivered him to the best hospital in the states - located in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

**Prologue: Feed the Machines**

Rain.

The storm was raging, making the waters around them choppy and turbulent. The U.S.S. _Marley_ sped steadily on, its turbines roaring with life. This ship was one of the best – it was fast, it was steady, it was efficient, as was the crew aboard it. Captain Reiner Braun, the man in charge, stood below deck in the boiler room. A few crew members tended to the computers running the engines and turbines, but it was mostly silent. Reiner often came down to the boiler room to be alone and gather his thoughts – something he mostly did before a mission. Putting a hand to his stubbled chin, he closed his eyes and pursed his lips, wondering what was going to greet them when they arrived on the shores of Morocco. Everything - his success, his promotion - hinged on this mission. He felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: anxiety. Reiner was a strong and self-assured man; he didn't have time for that kind of bullshit. But his superiors stressed just how important this mission was and he knew there was no room for error here… hence, panic.

Reiner and his troops were going to the Hoggar Mountains in Southern Algeria. There, they would place radioactive detonators that would blow up every damned volcano in that area – and humanity would be one step closer to getting rid of the Tyrannos.

A voice broke Reiner from his thoughts. "I knew you'd be down here… What are you thinking about?"

He opened his eyes to see his closest friend, Master Gunnery Sergeant Bertholdt Hoover, giving him a small smile. Reiner returned that smile, looking more confident than he felt. "Just going over the mission details," he responded.

"I know how important this is to you. We succeed and you're looking at becoming Major Reiner Braun… someone's moving up in the world," Bertholdt teased quietly.

Reiner snorted. "Look who's talking, Master Gunnery Sergeant," he shot back. "Besides, you know as well as I do that military ranks are more of a formality nowadays than anything. The general himself still has to get out on the front lines and fight." Though what Reiner said was technically true, he knew deep down inside that advancing the ranks was important to him. Nothing but success would ease his nerves.

Bertholdt's gaze moved away from Reiner and he watched the large machines around them work to propel the ship through the choppy Atlantic. "The rain is slowing us down."

Reiner's eyes watched the turbines, too, his gaze pensive. "Yes. But it will also slow down the Tyrannos."

"Right… large amounts of water immobilizes them."

"The Atlantic and Pacific oceans have been our saving grace," Reiner commented grimly. "If they knew how to cross the water safely in mass numbers… humanity would be doomed."

Bertholdt frowned. "… Well, let's hope that never happens."

Ten heavily-armed and supplied soldiers hit the warm, moderate coast of Morocco with wary eyes and guns cocked. "Helmets," Reiner commanded, and the soldiers all put on their protective gear to keep them safe from the rain, which was highly acidic from all the nuclear bombs that had dropped a century ago. The rain was still pouring down – odd for this region – and there were no Tyrannos in sight. Not a single one. "They've probably found refuge from the rain," Reiner shouted to his team above the dull roar of the storm. "But that doesn't mean we're safe. Keep your eyes open and don't do anything stupid!" He paused. "And yes, I'm talking to _you, _Eren Jaeger."

They spent half their time running and half their time walking; after about five hours, they reached their first big city - Marrakech. The abandoned buildings, now covered in vines, bushes, even trees, were eerily beautiful in their own way. They, like the rest of the last standing bastions in this crumbling world, were the only reminders of life before the attacks. The rain had died down after a while and was descending from the clouds in more of a mist than a downpour. Soon enough the storm would move and the rain would stop altogether. "As soon as it does," Reiner reminded his team during a short break on the edge of the city, "Those Tyrannos will be on our asses like flies on honey. When that happens, what do we do?"

"Shoot those motherfuckers!" the group responded simultaneously.

"That's right. Don't hesitate." Reiner took a drink from his canteen and scanned the area with sharp eyes. "Alright, here's the plan. We stick to the roof-tops. That way even if those sneaky bastards try to attack us, we'll have the high ground. We cannot afford to lose anyone, not a single person, and I'll be damned if I'm leaving anyone behind. So stick together, watch each other's backs, and be cautious. We're going to get through Marrakech as fast as we can, grab supplies at the eastern side of the city, and then we're heading straight east into Algeria. Take one more minute and then we're moving out!"

Reiner was proven correct about the rain as the group of soldiers took to the rooftops and traveled eastward, using their government-patented steam gear to boost their jumps. This made traveling the rooftops (a very common technique used by the Marines when in abandoned cities like this one) much easier. As the storm clouds drifted away, taking the rain with it, the skies were left muggy and grey but relatively clear.

And that was when the city began to stir. A warped howling sound came from the distance… the cry of the Tyrannos.

The soldiers all tensed up, their eyes carefully examining all sides as they crossed the rooftop of an abandoned building. In an attempt to ease the tension, Marco Bodt said, "This building used to be a mosque before the attacks. There aren't many of them back home. The Muslim religion was much more prominent here."

"Nobody cares," was the muttered reply of Jean Kirschtein. "Churches have no place in a world like this."

Sasha Braus, another Private First Class and one of only two females on the team, elbowed Jean roughly. "Hey! I think it's nice to know the history of a place like this. In a way, it's kind of beautiful… Plus, it keeps my mind off of the howling."

Reiner held up a hand, silencing the group and halting them all in their tracks. He listened carefully, frowning. After a moment he murmured to himself, "They're coming up the walls." Then, louder: "They're coming up the walls! Prepare yourselves!"

Indeed, the creatures came crawling up the walls, snarling and drooling. If Reiner had to describe a Tyrannos, he would call it an ugly-ass mutated pit-bull. It had no fur; only scales. Dark violet (almost black) in color, the Tyrannos had clawed feet that more closely resembled a dragon than a dog, and six black, beady eyes. Its tail was scaled and had two antennae, like a cockroach, and it had a wide-set mouth with sharp, glistening yellow teeth. It had a habit of drooling – and howling. It could get quite obnoxious, actually.

"Those little bastards couldn't sneak up on a deaf person with their howling – aaaahhh! Shit!" Jean cursed, narrowly dodging one of the Tyrannos as it soared onto the roof. The screaming began as the soldiers met the beasts in combat. Screaming loudest of all was Private First Class Eren Jaeger, with his guns blazing and an almost insane look in his green eyes.

"I'LL KILL THEM!" He yelled, spraying bullets. While he did knock down three aliens almost immediately, he was being wasteful with valuable resources.

"Eren – " Reiner began, but got caught up in his own fight. He gunned one Tyrannos down but another one jumped on his back and he went sprawling. Using his rifle as a sort of bar, Reiner kept the alien from eating his face, but god, it was growing hard to hold it back with all the savage strength it was using. The damned thing was snapping at his face and drooling on him, and holy shit, its breath stank. He couldn't even describe the smell if he tried. Gathering his strength, the brawny man tensed up to throw the beast off, but someone blasted it right in the head and it collapsed in a heap on his chest. With a groan of disgust, Reiner threw the ugly thing off and accepted the hand offered to him. Bertholdt pulled Reiner to his feet and the two spared each other a grin before splitting up to continue defending themselves.

"KEEP GOING!" Reiner barked, kicking a Tyrannos away while he reloaded his rifle. After that he prepared to cross to the next rooftop, springing ahead of his squad. "We have to get across the city!"

"What the fuck is THAT?!" Connie Springer, a sprightly young man who was quick on his feet but not so quick with his wit, pointed to the next building over. At first Reiner didn't think to even look; Connie was an idiot and more often than not his words didn't hold any value whatsoever. But cries of confusion from the other soldiers changed his mind.

Across an alleyway, on the next rooftop, was something… entirely new. It was a Tyrannos, there was no doubt about that due to the almost-black violet hue of its scaly skin, but it was… humanoid. Standing on two legs, it had the body type of a human, but warped. Reiner for the life of him couldn't fully describe how it looked, especially since he was in the middle of battle and could only spare glances at the creature. Slamming the butt of his rifle into the head of a Tyrannos Mutt, he tried to catch another good look at this new being. "Avoid it!" He finally commanded his squad. "We don't have time for distractions! Only engage the unknown if necessary – get to the other side of the city, pronto! We have a mission to complete!"

Thankfully his fellow soldiers complied and the team fought their way off the roof, with Reiner hanging back to make sure no one was left behind. Even as he launched his gear and soared from one rooftop to the other at the back of the team, Reiner kept his eyes on that creature. It stood still on the other rooftop, almost as if it was simply observing them. What was it planning?

On the next rooftop, a new swarm of Tyrannos crawled up the walls and soon enough, there were so many of them that the entire squad was surrounded. "Reiner! What do we do?!" Sasha yelled as she hurriedly tried to change her ammo cartridge. Jean quickly shot down a Tyrannos that was coming right after her, earning himself a grateful look from the brunette.

Reiner continued to fight, trying to assess the situation. They were currently trapped on this roof with Mutts snapping at their legs, and that damned unknown was still watching them with eerie black eyes. Shit, this wasn't good. Reiner had made a vow to always be honest with his squad, to never beat around the bush or sugarcoat anything, and today was no exception. "We pray for rain," he finally growled, beginning his fight with a well-aimed blast from his rifle.

All the while, he kept watching that unknown Tyrannos. It raised its dark, shadowy, spike-covered arm and he could see claws on the ends of its fingers…. Which were holding… something round?

What could it be?

_No. _It couldn't possibly have a...

It all happened so fast – yet in Reiner's mind, time moved at half pace.

The unknown creature threw the spherical object. The quadrupedal Tyrannos immediately fled the rooftop, leaving the team of soldiers confused and gathering their wits about them. Reiner had a horrified feeling that that flying object was some sort of bomb – but he wasn't waiting around to find out. "JUMP!" he screamed.

"What –"

"I SAID _JUMP_!"

Reiner threw down his gun, turned his back on his squad, and jumped. He had no thought of the mission, no thought of himself or his own life; he could only think of saving his fellow soldiers…

"Reiner, NO!" He could hear Bertholdt's voice along with the cries of the rest of his squad.

He reached up in mid-air and wrapped his fingers around that sphere to throw it right back –

BOOM!

Bright light blinded Reiner. First, he felt an intense, searing pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before...

Then everything went black.

**A/N: That's our start! I'll include names and ranks with every chapter so they're easy to find in case you get confused. Positive feedback and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! Let me know what you think in the reviews!**


	2. Chapter One: Damage

**Chapter One: Damage**

**Characters: **Reiner Braun (Captain, Marines)

Historia Reiss (military nurse, president's daughter)

Bertholdt Hoover (Master Gunnery Sergeant, Marines)

Annie Leonhart (Special Agent, Secret Service)

Ymir Wikstrom (Private First Class, Marines)

Eren Jaeger (Private First Class, Marines)

Mikasa Ackerman (Sergeant, Marines)

Armin Arlert (Logistics, Private First Class, Marines)

Sasha Braus (Private First Class, Marines)

Connie Springer (Private First Class, Marines)

Jean Kirschtein (Private First Class, Marines)

Marco Bodt (Private First Class, Marines)

Levi Ackerman (Colonel, Marines)

Hange Zoe (Brigadier General, Marines)

Erwin Smith (General, Marines)

Dot Pixis (Admiral, Coast Guard)

Nile Dok (Director, Secret Service)

Darius Zackly (Vice President)

Rod Reiss (President)

*Other characters will be mentioned in the story. NOTE: These are real existing ranks in the military. I didn't make any of this up.*

Light.

It was so harsh and blinding that it made his head feel like it was cracked open. And once he fully regained consciousness, the rest of his body felt the same way. Reiner Braun was a tough guy but this pain was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. His eyes popped open and he let out a raw yell that sounded very much unlike him as searing, arcing agony spread from his core, zapping every limb until they felt like they were on fire.

And when he lifted his head to assess the situation, he screamed again. His limbs weren't there. Not even one of them. They were all... gone. His legs ended at his knee... One arm ended at the elbow while the other – his dominant arm, actually - wasn't there at all past his shoulder. He began yelling, screaming, writhing - all thought was lost in the whirlwind of emotion in his addled brain.

Someone rushed into the room and he vaguely felt small, gentle hands putting pressure on his chest and a soothing, feminine voice in his ear. "GET OFF! GET OFF OF ME! MAKE IT STOP! AAAAAGH!" he vaguely heard himself roar. Nothing seemed to calm him down - until he felt something enter his arm and suddenly he went lax. Reiner's eyes drooped drowsily and only when the medicine took effect was he able to concentrate on anything other than the pain, which still wasn't entirely gone. His eyes lifted to see a petite woman staring down at him with large, concerned blue eyes.

She was beautiful, he thought sluggishly, but a dull ache raced through his head and he grimaced. "Who... who are you? Where am I? What... What's HAPPENED to me?!" Reiner demanded, his voice cracking.

Her voice was soft, feminine. "Sir… you're at Ohio Valley Hospital in Pittsburgh. Please, remain calm. Panicking will only agitate your wounds…"

Reiner tried his best to comply; although… how could he _not _panic when he didn't have any hands or feet? "If you don't want me to panic," he growled, "Then TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO ME!"

The girl looked afraid herself, like he might bite her or something – even though technically she had the advantage over him in a fight now. She hesitated before finally saying, "I don't really know what happened, sir… They didn't tell me much. They only told me a bomb went off…"

A bomb.

Reiner's eyes widened as the memories came rushing back to him in full clarity. The mission. Going through Marrakech. The rain… then the Tyrannos attacking them on the rooftops. And… the humanoid one. The one that didn't move from that rooftop, the one that… threw…

… The bomb.

And Reiner had leaped out to swat it away from his team, just as it exploded.

And that's when he'd blacked out. He didn't remember anything after that. But he could imagine it was the bomb that had taken all of his limbs. "Is there anything I can do for you…?" the girl asked gently, her hand resting on his bare chest. If he hadn't been in such pain, he might've tingled at the contact. There was something so… sincere about her blue-eyed gaze.

"Kristaaaaaa," another voice, a feminine yet raspy one, whined from beyond the curtains around his bed. "My arm is hurting! I think I need some medicine."

The blonde nurse sighed softly and a small smile curled her lips. "Just a moment," she called back. Turning her blue eyes back on Reiner, she let her question hang in the air. She still hadn't removed her hands from his body.

"I'm alright," he managed to rumble – although frankly, he was _far _from okay. He was horrified, afraid, desolate. How was he going to serve his country with no limbs? He'd spend the rest of his pathetic life in this bed, unable to walk, or feed himself, or touch… hold someone… he wouldn't be able to reach out and brush some blonde hair away from the pretty nurse's face. He'd never hold a gun or lead his team or…

Reiner felt an aching pain in his chest that had nothing to do with his wounds and he turned his face away to hide the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. After a moment, the nurse finally retreated from his bed. He vaguely heard her responding to the other woman's demands in a hushed voice. Reiner was then left alone with his thoughts… and each minute that passed drove him a little closer to the edge of insanity. '_So this is what hell feels like,' _he thought grimly, tears rolling down his temples and wetting his ears.

XXX

The next few weeks were spent exactly the same as the first day: alone. His fellow soldiers and the higher-ups hadn't come to visit and at this point, he frankly didn't care anymore. The nurse, whose name Reiner had learned was Krista, checked on him very frequently and had on many occasions tried to get him to eat; he'd refused each time, turning his head away. He'd even gone so far as to struggle (uselessly) in his bed to avoid food. Finally, on the third week, he was sleeping restlessly when the curtains were pulled back and Krista entered, looking almost… angry. Which was, he'd found out in the short time he'd known her, unheard of. It seemed that in almost every situation she was calm, composed, and gentle; so the furrow in her brows and the spark in her blue eyes was… intimidating.

Reiner's weary eyes opened and he focused them on her, blinking blearily. He wanted to ask her why she was so angry, but he had no energy to do so. He had no energy or willpower to do anything except lay there and die.

"I don't care if it's the last thing I do, you're going to eat a square meal today," she snapped as she hustled over to the bed. "Do you understand me, Reiner Braun?"

He only stared at her.

Krista proceeded to check his vitals, and Reiner was motionless and devoid of feeling the entire time – except for when she leaned across his body to check the monitor to his right. He could feel her blonde hair tickle his nose, feel the warmth of her body against him, could smell the faint, but delicious perfume she was wearing… Her closeness caused his body to stir with feeling, and he had to fight the tension tugging at his atrophied stomach. There was no doubt about it now; he was immensely attracted to her. But there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it now… because… who in the world, even this fucked-up nightmare of a world, would date a limbless, useless cripple?

"Why?" he finally croaked.

Hearing his voice caused the nurse to pause in her movements and slowly she pulled back so she could look at him with surprised blue eyes. "Why what?" she asked softly.

"Why do you care if I eat…?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

His brows furrowed. "I'm useless," he growled, his voice breaking. "I should be left to die."

Her reaction was surprising to say the least; Krista's blue eyes hardened and narrowed dangerously on him and her lips curled into a scowl, her brows drawing in angrily. "A man who would give his life to save his friends and comrades is far from useless," she snapped. "In my book, that makes him an absolute hero… but you know what _is _useless? Refusing to eat. Giving up. Letting yourself rot away."

Her words impacted him deeply and he felt the breath rush from his lungs. For a moment he couldn't breathe; he could only stare at her with widened golden eyes. Then his face grew hard and he leaned up somewhat, fighting the excruciating pain of doing so, just so that he could look her right in the eye. With surprising emotion, he yelled, "And why shouldn't I give up?! What good am I like… like THIS?!" his voice broke. He could feel his eyes prickle with hot, angry tears. "I CAN'T WALK… I CAN'T EVEN MOVE! THE BEST THING I CAN DO IS ROT AWAY. AT LEAST THEN YOU WON'T HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF ME!"

He could see the tears well up in her big blue eyes and knew that he'd stepped too far – but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was going to die here, alone and disfigured, and it would spare everyone the trouble of having to keep him alive. Why couldn't she see that? Why was she being so stubborn?

Hastily, Krista finished her duties, wiped her eyes and left the room without another word. He sat back in the bed once more, feeling breathless and… hollow. Like he wasn't quite human anymore. But somehow… seeing that look on her face brought a tiny pain to his empty chest.

Later, someone else entered his small closed-off space; it was another nurse, a grumpy-looking older woman who had no qualms with being rough as she forced him to eat. The whole experience was humiliating and he found himself regretting scaring Krista away. If he was going to have to be alive and live in this hell… he'd much rather see her face every day. 

XXX

While his physical injuries began to heal, his mental and emotional ones were festering, growing worse. He felt like there were maggots in his brain, feeding on his every thought and draining him of the little bit of energy he had. If he'd had hands or fingers, he would've yanked his IVs out by now and let himself starve to death. Dark circles formed under his dull golden eyes and his body grew gaunt, a hollow portion of its former glory. It was during this time that he realized that… he truly was a broken man. His entire life had fallen apart in the span of a few seconds and he knew he'd never bounce back from it. All hope was lost. _'All I do is damage,' _he thought over and over. _'I have no one to blame… I am covered in shame. I'm sick of the misery.'_

During this time, Krista had bounced back from their fight and continued to do her duty diligently, taking care of him every day. In fact, there were times she would come to sit with him. Unwilling to talk, Reiner would pretend he was asleep; during those times, the petite blonde nurse would pull out a book and read to him – until that pesky woman next door, who was apparently called Ymir, would demand her attention for some reason or another - until one day, Ymir was gone. The blond man had no idea where the woman had went; if she'd died, or healed up and was sent back out to the front lines - all he knew was he didn't hear her whining for Krista anymore. Reiner wouldn't admit it, but he found Krista's reading… soothing. It quelled the darkness in his heart, even if only for a little while. It kept the hell at bay - at least temporarily.

"I brought a new book today," Krista said softly as she entered the curtains one afternoon. Reiner closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing; again, he didn't feel like talking. He would've rather listened to her read. He heard her voice, soft and pleasant, as she sat down in the chair next to his bed. "This one is called 'The Great Gatsby.' A classic novel. I think you'll like it, Mr. Braun… it's a favorite of mine. I won't spoil anything for you; I'll just dive right in." A pause; then she began to read. "'In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. _"Whenever you feel like criticizing any one," _he told me, _"just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had." _He didn't say any more, but we've always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. In consequence…'"

As she continued to read, Reiner felt his body relax as he settled into the rhythm of her words. It was like… like a song that he could listen to over and over again. But as Krista read on, the blond man became more and more interested in what was happening – so much so that he eventually opened his eyes and turned his head so that he could focus on her while she read. She was so intrigued herself by the pages she held in her hands that it took her a long moment to notice he was watching her. Finally looking up, she fixed him with an almost bashful blue-eyed stare, a small smile curling her lips. "So you have been listening," she murmured.

He nodded. Finally, he rasped, "It's the only part of my day that makes any sense… you reading to me."

She lowered the book, a finger tucked between the pages so she wouldn't lose her place. "Your wounds are healing very nicely," Krista said. "Despite your stubbornness, your body has a strong defense system… perhaps in a month or so we could begin the process of fitting you with robotic prosthetics."

His eyes widened. Prosthetics? He didn't want to think about that. Even the robotic prosthetics were glitchy at best, not to mention extremely uncomfortable, and he didn't want to think about having to live his life wearing those damned things. "There's no use," he grumbled, looking away.

Krista frowned slightly. "We've made serious advances in technology since we first invented robotic prosthetics," she argued. "Some of them are almost seamless to the human body. You'd be surprised. Besides – your friends would be very disappointed in you if you didn't at least try…"

He looked back at her, eyes widening slightly. "No one has come to visit," he countered.

"Because you haven't been deemed well enough to have any visitors until now. I was actually going to allow them to see you tomorrow… if you wanted."

Reiner's eyes widened. So _that_ was why he hadn't had any visitors? Because they hadn't been allowed to see him? Well, that changed things a bit. He still felt hopeless. Useless. Like he should be left to die. But his team wanted to see him. Did he want to see any of them…? The darkness and desolation in his heart immediately said '_no.' _But there was a small flame in his heart… a small flame that longed to see the faces of his soldiers. His comrades. His friends.

His answer was a small nod.

Her lips curled into a bright smile. "I'll go and let them know that they can visit you tomorrow," Krista said, standing from her chair and leaving her book on the seat. She moved to exit through the curtains when the presence of several people made her pause. Entering the curtains were three very important (and surprising) figures; Brigadier General Hange Zoe, Colonel Levi Ackerman, and General Erwin Smith. Instinct took over and Reiner immediately straightened up in his bed, his shoulders growing taut and rigid, and he went to salute them – but was reminded that he had no hand to do so. Grimacing, he focused sharp golden eyes on the three (mostly) grim-looking officers. "This is a pleasant surprise, sir," Reiner rasped, addressing Erwin first.

"At ease, Captain," Erwin said, his face softening slightly. "We're here for several reasons. First… we want to say thank you for your heroism, soldier. The President has awarded you a Purple Heart for your wounds received in action. Thank you for your service to your country, Captain Braun."

And the three saluted him. The respectful gesture filled Reiner with emotion and for a moment he could hardly breathe; he furiously blinked back the tears welling up in his eyes and remained silent. The darkness in his heart was pushed to the back corners of his mind… at least for now. "You said you were here for several reasons, sir…" Reiner prompted respectfully once the three lowered their hands, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What else did you need to tell me…?"

Reiner hadn't ever in his life remembered seeing General Erwin Smith look anything other than grim and confident, but at the moment the General looked… almost unsure. He glanced over at Levi and Hange, who stood stiffly with their hands folded behind their backs, before returning his gaze to Reiner. "We came to ask for your help," he finally said.

Reiner's brows furrowed. "I would give my life for this country, sir," he said resolutely, old habits immediately coming back to him. "But there isn't much I can do without…" his voice faltered and broke.

It was Levi's dark, deep voice that he heard now. "We have a program, soldier," he said coldly, his flinty eyes staring Reiner down. "It's… experimental. We are still in the testing stages. But if it works… you could get your arms and legs back."

Reiner's first thought was what Krista had mentioned before: robotic prosthetics. Maybe they were testing some sort of weaponized form of prosthetics. He didn't want to use prosthetics… but if he was ordered to, he would. His jaw set into a grim line and he nodded. "Of course, sir. I'll do it."

The three looked between each other, almost surprised. "Do you have any questions for us, Captain?" Erwin finally asked.

Reiner looked between them. He did have questions, but he trusted them. He'd put his faith in the military when he signed on, and would continue to do so. He was a soldier, and soldiers followed orders without question. His face hardening, he replied, "no, sir."

Levi looked down at him. "Good. We'll be in touch."

And they departed, leaving Reiner and Krista alone. He sat back, his mind whirling. What had he just gotten himself into? What sort of program were they referring to? Was it an experimental program for soldier prosthetics… or something more dangerous? How would he get his arms and legs back? Would he die? Would it work at all? Why weren't they more forthcoming with information? They seemed almost… reluctant to tell him what was going on. He didn't like their secretive stares.

Finally his golden eyes met Krista's face and she looked pale as a sheet. He frowned. "What is it..?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Tell me," Reiner said, voice hard.

The blonde nurse bit her lip. There was a long silence before she finally relented. "I think I know what program they're talking about, and…" her voice trembled. "It's very dangerous."

"Come sit," Reiner instructed quietly.

She did, grabbing the book and flipping it over in her hands nervously. It was clear she was anxious – no… frightened. When she didn't speak, Reiner's brows drew in. "What program is it?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I-It's called… the _Titan Program."_


	3. Chapter Two: Buried Beneath

**Chapter Two: Buried Beneath**

**Characters: **Reiner Braun (Captain, Marines)

Historia Reiss (military nurse, president's daughter)

Bertholdt Hoover (Master Gunnery Sergeant, Marines)

Annie Leonhart (Special Agent, Secret Service)

Ymir Wikstrom (Private First Class, Marines)

Eren Jaeger (Private First Class, Marines)

Mikasa Ackerman (Sergeant, Marines)

Armin Arlert (Logistics, Private First Class, Marines)

Sasha Braus (Private First Class, Marines)

Connie Springer (Private First Class, Marines)

Jean Kirschtein (Private First Class, Marines)

Marco Bodt (Private First Class, Marines)

Levi Ackerman (Colonel, Marines)

Hange Zoe (Brigadier General, Marines)

Erwin Smith (General, Marines)

Dot Pixis (Admiral, Coast Guard)

Nile Dok (Director, Secret Service)

Darius Zackly (Vice President)

Rod Reiss (President)

*Other characters will be mentioned in the story. NOTE: These are real existing ranks in the military. I didn't make any of this up.*

Gunfire, screaming, blood.

Those things had surrounded Master Gunnery Sergeant Bertholdt Hoover for the past three days. After the incident in Marrakech — he still remembered it vividly — the team had to fight off the rest of the Mutts. The humanoid-looking Tyrannos had disappeared after throwing the bomb— so as soon as the mutts were taken care of, Bertholdt had flung himself off the building and raced to Reiner's side. It was a miracle the man was alive, although 'alive' was a severe overstatement for what his blond friend really was, which was basically on the doorstep of death— and Bertholdt and several of the team administered emergency aid while they called in a chopper to come and take them all back. Without Captain Braun's leadership, the mission would be a failure.

Somehow, the chopper had made it back to the States despite the acidic rain that had come back around and was causing the ocean below to become increasingly hostile and turbulent; Reiner was dropped off at one of the best hospitals in the country, located in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania while the rest of the team was taken to a military base in D.C. to report their failures. Obviously Colonel Ackerman had not been pleased and had threatened them all with a demotion, but General Smith had stepped in. He hadn't been happy with the results either, but the appearance of the new Tyrannos species had been much more alarming than the team's failure. He had each soldier go through the details, all of them, at least five times. "That species has never been seen on these shores," the blond General had said, his face grim. "We'll need to send another team out to investigate. Captain Braun's mission has officially been put on hold— it's clear we don't know what we're dealing with yet. Colonel Ackerman, Brigadier General Zoe— I want the Titan program to receive extra funding, immediately. We're going ahead with the program and recruiting for it."

"Err— s-sir...?" Bertholdt had questioned quietly. "What is the Titan program..?"

Levi's flinty eyes had peered right up at the tall man, cold and unrelenting. "That's above your pay grade, soldier."

And that was the last Bertholdt had heard of it. And it seemed like no matter who he'd asked, no one knew what the Titan program was...

Reiner's team had been reassigned to border protection on the west coast for a few weeks. The commanding officer: Bertholdt himself. Which was why he was there, now, on the coast of California with mud in his boots, blood on his uniform and protective helmet, a hot AR-15 in his hands, and dying soldiers all around him. It had been quiet the past few days; California was a relatively dry state, drier than most (which was great for the Tyrannos, if they managed to cross the Pacific), but the past few days it had been raining non-stop. An odd phenomenon, but it kept the few Mutts who'd somehow crossed the ocean, at bay— at least for the time being. Once the rain had quelled, the Tyrannos Mutts were showing up in much greater numbers— something that had never happened before. The sparse guards on the usually quiet border hadn't been prepared for the massive amount of Mutts that came in, on crudely-made boats, on sails, on pieces of driftwood— it didn't matter. Without rain to stop them, they were sailing across the ocean and permeating California's borders; not unheard of, no, but never before had there been this _many _of them. The ill-equipped, scant number of soldiers were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer amount of Mutts and the tides of the battle were turning.

Jumping over a low parapet, Master Gunnery Sergeant Bertholdt Hoover ran back into the fray to assist Private Sasha Braus, who was injured. Private Jean Kierschtein was trying to get close but he was surrounded; so Bertholdt raced to her side and jabbed the butt of his rifle into the face of a Tyrannos Mutt who was gnawing at her pants leg. Through teamwork, the pair was able to get the Mutts off of themselves enough to begin their retreat back behind the military parapets. Seeing a Tyrannos attempt to give chase, and seeing that Sasha was limping on an injured leg, Bertholdt acted quickly and picked her up, throwing her into a protective ditch to protect her and using himself to fend off the snarling beast.

Once the Mutt had a bullet in its head, Bertholdt glanced back at Sasha with wide, frenzied eyes. "A-Are you alright, Braus?!"

"Y-Yes, sir!" She saluted, wincing as she stood up in the ditch and brandished her weapon.

Bertholdt continued firing on the invading Tyrannos with a grim look. Unlike his best friend Reiner, he hated to fight, he always had hated it, he hated the military and this government regime... but he was a part of it, whether he liked it or not. The tall MG Sergeant wasn't spraying bullets because his superiors ordered him to; he was fighting to stay alive, and to keep his friends alive, too.

Suddenly, Bertholdt thought of Annie. Annie Leonhardt, Agent in the Secret Service and his childhood friend, along with Reiner. The three had grown up together in southern Florida; being so close to the border meant that they'd seen their fair share of Tyrannos, even at a young age. But Annie never seemed scared, or even phased by them. Strong, fierce, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Annie. Bertholdt had always loved her, for as long as he could remember. Why was he thinking of her now, or all times? Was it because he might die? He could die without ever telling her how he felt... not that she'd care, anyways. Annie was always so detached from everything that sometimes he wondered if she cared about anyone at all.

But still, his thoughts dwelled on her. They always would.

Private Kierschtein was having trouble. Three Mutts had converged on him while he was trying to make some headway on the shore, and judging from his fresh limp, one of them had managed a good gnaw at his leg. Bertholdt began making his way towards the lanky, struggling officer but with the way he himself was being attacked, he wasn't sure he'd make it. Glancing back, he saw Private Marco Bodt peeking over the top of a parapet at Jean and Bertholdt could see the freckled soldier considering helping him, even though earlier Marco's gun had been snapped in half by the jaws of a Mutt. Was he really thinking of racing out there with no protection, no way to defend himself? "Don't even think about it, Private Bodt," Bertholdt commanded, sounding nothing at all like his usual soft-spoken self. "That's an order, soldier!"

Marco didn't even look at him. The Private's eyes were only on Jean.

"MARCO!" Bertholdt yelled desperately as he kicked a Tyrannos Mutt square between its six beady eyes. "DON'T!"

Of course the Private didn't listen, running out as fast as his long legs could carry him and throwing the full weight of his body against the Mutt hanging onto Jean's back. It knocked the creature askew and Jean had just enough time to put a bullet in it before it could pick itself back up to attack Marco -

\- but when Jean turned back around, another Mutt was sinking its teeth into the freckled man's shoulder and blood was staining his uniform rapidly; Jean tried to get to Marco, but was held back by three more Tyrannos. Bertholdt himself was cornered too and could only watch as Marco went down. "MARCO!" he yelled uselessly, feeling hot tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He'd known Bodt for years… and within a few moments, a long-time friend was being ripped to shreds, his entrails spread over the beach.

"_**MARCO! **__GOD DAMNIT!" _Jean cried, stifling his sobs as he continued to push forward. With the help of Sasha, Mikasa, Eren, Connie, and the rest of the patrolmen who were still alive, the group managed to begin taking back the beach inch by inch. It took another solid hour and the deaths of a few more guards, but the Tyrannos had been killed and the coast was clear. The next few hours were spent clearing the bodies of the various Mutts and dumping them back in the toxic ocean; after that, the bodies of the fallen soldiers were gathered, put in bags, and carefully taken off the beach.

Marco's remains were too spread out to gather up. He'd been ripped, quite literally, in half, and bits and pieces of him had been spread all over the beach. The whole team was overcome with grief for their fallen friend, but Jean was the most torn up. He hadn't stopped crying since the incident had initially occurred, and rough sobs still racked his body as he filled out the death report back at the guard station. It had never been clear what the extent of Jean and Marco's relationship was; whether they were very close friends, or… something more. Bertholdt clearly remembered their first meeting - Jean was constantly irritated by Bodt's endless optimism… but somewhere along the line, the freckled man had caused Private Kierschtein's frown to turn upside down and had earned a permanent place in his heart.

And now that place was a hole, and would be for the rest of Jean's life. Bertholdt was mourning too, as was the rest of the tightly-knit squad, and he wanted to say something to comfort the serving officer, but there were no words to be had. Nothing he had to say would help ease Jean's pain, or his own. Reiner, who was still in critical condition in the hospital, would be extremely pained to hear this news as well… and Bertholdt wasn't enthused to be the bearer of bad news, especially since Reiner was already on death's doorstep himself. Knowing the blond Captain, he would blame himself for Marco's death, even if it had nothing to do with him. Reiner was just that type of guy.

Receiving a phone call, Bertholdt dismissed himself from the main office for a private moment. The call was from the Ohio Valley Hospital in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania - the one Reiner had been taken to! Answering immediately, Bertholdt was met with a sweet and feminine voice. "Hello, is this Bertholdt Hoover? This is Krista Lenz with the Ohio Valley Hospital… I just wanted to let you and your squad know that Reiner Braun is well enough for visitors, now. I'm sure he'll want to see you all, so when you are able to, please come visit. He…. well, he certainly needs the company."

There was something in her voice that gave Bertholdt pause. "Is something wrong, Miss Lenz?" he asked carefully.

Her voice, again, was hesitant. "I shouldn't be speaking about it. It's not my place. But I am worried for him." Bertholdt waited silently for her to continue. Finally, she did. "He's been asked to enlist in a top-secret experimental program… and from what I've heard - things I shouldn't have heard - it's… well, it's dangerous. And he's just agreed to it with no thought to himself or how dangerous it really is…"

Bertholdt's grip on the phone tightened. Was it the same program he'd heard about? "W-What is the program called?" he asked, lowering his voice to nearly a whisper. He didn't want this conversation being overheard.

"The _Titan Program," _was Krista's equally urgent whisper. Bertholdt's breath caught. Colonel Ackerman had been so secretive and stone-cold when being asked questions about it that Bertholdt had immediately become suspicious of the whole program… and now his suspicions were confirmed.

"Miss Lenz," he started carefully, "can you tell me anything else about it?"

"I don't know what it is or its purpose… all I know is that in some previous trials, the patients have _died." _Her voice caught, as if she were fighting back tears. "I believe someone very close to me is - they took her away a couple of weeks ago - I think they… I think she may be a part of that program now… and I don't even know if she's alive anymore."

"I see," was the MG Sergeant's shaky reply. "I - I'm sorry to hear that. I'll… I'll come visit Reiner as soon as I can. And I will speak with him about it."

"Please be careful," was the nurse's plea. "Don't let yourself get caught talking about it… if they catch you, you may disappear too."

Bertholdt hung up, his hands shaking.

As the remaining troops began filling out their incident reports and taking the death numbers, Bertholdt found himself wondering, once again, what Annie was doing at that moment. Probably living the good life; soldiers who were recruited into the Secret Service stay inland, away from the coasts, and rarely had to lift a finger for anything. They were spoiled, and hadn't seen a day of combat with the Tyrannos. That was probably why Annie picked the job. She never was one to do more than was necessary. Why risk her life when she could get a great salary, large rations, and cozy bunking for doing nothing? After seeing all he'd seen today, Bertholdt had begun to wonder if his childhood friend had had the right idea.

A small memorial service in honor of Marco was held by the motley group of soldiers around a campfire out on the blood-stained beach. There'd only been one interruption - a lone Mutt sailed in on some driftwood and had promptly been gruesomely put down. Perhaps Jean had been a bit overzealous about it, but after everything that had happened that day, Bertholdt couldn't blame him, and had just let him take his sorrows out on the beast. Afterwards they'd silently dumped the massacred Tyrannos back into the ocean and had continued their memorial. After everyone had spoken their piece or given their favorite memory of Marco, all the soldiers took a long drink of their cheap ration ale in honor of their fallen friend and departed to their bunks. Jean lingered behind at the fire, and Bertholdt, who was responsible for putting it out, stuck back too. For a few long minutes the pair just stared into the crackling flames, the roar of the fire illuminating their faces in a deceptively warm glow… but despite the pleasant, sunny heat of the fire, the soldiers felt anything but warm.

"How are you feeling?" Bertholdt asked quietly. He knew it was useless to talk, but he felt a need to try and comfort Jean in any way possible.

"Empty."

Bertholdt turned his gaze to his fellow soldier. "Were you and Marco just friends? Or… more?"

"I don't know."

"Did you want to be more?"

"I don't know," Jean ground out, turning away. As he left the fireside, he said quietly, "but I'll never get the chance to find out."

XXX

"It's about damn time you showed up, Annie," Agent Marlowe Freudenberg irritably said. "You're twenty minutes late!"

"Relax." A simple look from her was enough to make him stiffen anxiously. Despite her petite frame and seemingly unassuming personality, she was dangerous, and he knew it. Adjusting her weapons belt and taking a moment to fix up her hair, which was slightly disheveled from sleep, she dismissed the other agent from his post and took up her stiff position outside the door of the President's office. It was like this nearly every day; wake up, relax for a while, show up late to her post, and stand there. Sometimes the schedule would change and she'd accompany President Reiss to a meeting with other government officials, but either way, it was cake. No Tyrannos, no starvation, no tough work, no stress. It really did pay to be an expert in her field.

But not only was being a member of the Secret Service a cush job, it was also an interesting one. The amount of classified information that passed through Annie's ears on a daily basis was phenomenal. She knew more government secrets than 98% of the population left on earth. More than her childhood friends, too, even though they were quickly climbing ranks in the Marine Corps… speaking of, Reiner would be going on a mission soon in Africa that would determine whether or not he was promoted to Major. Annie had a brief thought to check in on him, to see how he was doing and if he was preparing properly for his mission, but decided against it. She'd call him later… if she remembered.

Annie stiffened at her post next to the door as some government officials emerged at the end of the hallway, approaching the President's office. A meeting today? Not unusual; but what was odd was that they were accompanied by some very prominent military members: General Erwin Smith of the Marine Corps, Admiral Dot Pixis of the Coast Guard, and… Director Nile Dok, leader of the Secret Service, and her boss. _'Look alive,' _she thought dully as she lifted her arm in a dutiful salute.

"At ease, Agent," Director Dok said as the group approached the door. He was a dull-looking man of average height and build; but he was quite capable, very level-headed, and an expert with a pistol. More than qualified for his position. Annie moved her arm down, linking her hands together at her back and looking straight ahead. Even though she kept her expression carefully concealed, the blonde was fervently wondering what was going on. There must've been some move the military was planning and they would need the President's direct permission to begin; otherwise, the Marine Corps and Coast Guard usually played by their own rules and independently made their own decisions. This was _big. _

Annie wondered if she'd be learning even more secrets today.

The regal-looking group entered the large oval room and she heard General Smith's distinct voice: "My apologies, Mr. President; Brigadier General Zoe will be making our presentation, but she is running a tad late."

"I would expect nothing less from her," was President Rod Reiss's calm reply. As the door closed, their voices became muffled, but Annie's sharp ears still picked up every word. "This must be important. I was briefly notified that you're requesting funding for an experimental military program. I'm assuming that's the reason you asked for this meeting."

"Yes sir," was Erwin's response. "I have discussed details with Admiral Pixus and Director Dok and they have agreed to back my proposal, and even suggest candidates for the testing phase."

"Before we get into that, please, tell me what this program entails." Reiss's voice grew serious, but didn't elevate. "What is it called?"

General Smith paused. "It's called… the _Titan Program."_

Annie's eyes widened. She remembered hearing that name, although for the life of her she couldn't recall who'd said it or where she'd heard it. There was only one word that had been associated with it: _dangerous. _If it was so dangerous, then why on earth would they propose -

_WHOOSH! _The loud commotion from the end of the hallway had Annie bringing her hand up to the pistol holster at her waist - until she recognized the figure. It was Brigadier General Hange Zoe, disheveled and panicked, rushing straight towards Annie. "Have they started?" she screeched.

"Barely - " Annie began, but didn't get a chance to finish as Hange flung the door open and threw herself inside the room. The door slammed shut and Annie was alone again. Hange's voice was loud and clear, even from inside the room.

"Have I missed it?!" the brunette cried.

"No, you haven't," was Erwin's amused response. "In fact, I was just telling Mr. President that you would be giving the presentation on our program."

"Right!" There was a few long moments of silence, and then: "Mr. President, sir, may I present… the _Titan Program. _This military program is designed to give us an edge against the Tyrannos threat. We've spent a century simply defending ourselves from these scum, not knowing exactly what they are or where they come from… don't you think it's about time we find out what we're up against? Up until now we haven't had the manpower. We've spent too many lives and resources scouting the rest of the world, with little to no results. This program, sir, could change all of that."

A moment of silence, followed by some clicks. "Now, we have the opportunity to spend our resources on something that will give us results. We can make _progress…. With __**these**_."

President Reiss's awed and horrified voice broke the silence. "What is _that?"_

"_That, _Mister President, is something I fondly refer to as a 'Titan.'" Hange's voice was quite smug. "These bad boys are the future. They will be created by injecting a specially-formulated serum into the spine of a person, giving them the ability to transform into a Titan. Titans should vary in shape and size according the individual, but they'll be giants, with massive strength and special abilities. These super soldiers will help us take back the land that was lost to us, figure out the origin of the Tyrannos, and free the planet from their fearmongering!"

There was a long silence. Then, a question filled with apprehension: "What are the side effects of the serum?"

Hesitance. "Well," Hange began with trepidation, "in the mice we've tested, there have been a variability of symptoms. Some were given tremendous strength and control; in some they turned to cannibalism. And some… the effect was death. But overall, our test results have been very encouraging! The pros vastly outweigh the cons. The program has risks, but those are risks that humanity should be willing to take. And, sir, if I may - … desperate times… call for desperate measures."

The following silence was so drawn out that Annie thought for a moment that the meeting was over. Then, the President said quietly, "if I allot some government funds to support this program… how will you go about gathering test subjects?"

"We will narrow down the possible subjects to only hardened, experienced military members that have a moderate rank - no new recruits, but no highly-ranked officials, either," Erwin cut in. "And, we've all agreed to spread out the subjects and include an even amount of recruits from each branch of the military, out of fairness and equality."

Annie heard Admiral Pixus speak for the first time during the whole meeting. "As leader of the Coast Guard, I'll make it clear that I know the risks involved, but I am willing to continue with this program… if it will give us back the rest of our world. I have a list of officers who I think would make the cut for the Titan Program."

The shuffling of papers could be heard. Then President Reiss piped up. "And Director Dok? What about you?"

"I fully back the program," he began. Then, after a moment: "I have only one Agent that I think would fit the criteria of the program, at least currently. She's one of our very best."

"And?" Reiss prompted.

"Annie Leonhart. I believe she's standing right outside the door, actually."

Annie's eyes widened and she could feel herself quickly covering her mouth to stifle a cry of shock. It took several minutes of breathing techniques to compose herself. She hadn't heard the rest of the conversation between the military leaders and the President; a dull ringing filled her ears and her head pounded. Her? A part of a dangerous, experimental program? Her entire life was about to be turned upside down. Her cushy job, her stress-free life - gone. She'd been unfortunate enough to hear clips and phrases of the conversation after her name was mentioned, and she caught some other names as well… including Reiner's name. He was looking at a promotion soon, right? This certainly wasn't what he had in mind, she was sure, but he was so dumbly loyal that he would accept the risk without asking any questions. Bertholdt, however, was much more like herself - he wasn't going to do something so risky without asking questions first. Maybe if she talked to him about it, he'd be able to talk some sense into Reiner. As much as the big dumb blond got on her nerves, she'd hate to see him die.

But even though calling Bertholdt was on her list, she knew that she needed to do something else first: save herself.


	4. Chapter Three: Break Me Down

**Chapter Three: Break Me Down**

Characters: Reiner Braun (Captain, Marines)

Historia Reiss (military nurse, president's daughter)

Bertholdt Hoover (Master Gunnery Sergeant, Marines)

Annie Leonhart (Special Agent, Secret Service)

Ymir Wikstrom (Private First Class, Marines)

Eren Jaeger (Private First Class, Marines)

Mikasa Ackerman (Sergeant, Marines)

Armin Arlert (Logistics, Private First Class, Marines)

Sasha Braus (Private First Class, Marines)

Connie Springer (Private First Class, Marines)

Jean Kirschtein (Private First Class, Marines)

Marco Bodt (Private First Class, Marines)

Levi Ackerman (Colonel, Marines)

Hange Zoe (Brigadier General, Marines)

Erwin Smith (General, Marines)

Dot Pixis (Admiral, Coast Guard)

Nile Dok (Director, Secret Service)

Darius Zackly (Vice President)

Rod Reiss (President)

*Other characters will be mentioned in the story. NOTE: These are real existing ranks in the military. I didn't make any of this up.*

Soundtrack: Various songs from the band Red. Each chapter title is the title of one of their songs and it's highly recommended those songs are played with each chapter.

Ever since that visit from General Erwin, Brigadier General Zoe, and Colonel Ackerman, Reiner had been impatiently waiting for further orders. He remembered them mentioning something about some waiver paperwork he needed to fill out before they could transfer him to the program's facility, but that paperwork hadn't come yet.

Then again, it had only been a day since they'd spoken to him.

Krista was back at her duties once more, and the next evening she was reading to him again. She was a quarter of the way through The Great Gatsby and he was so intrigued by it that he thought of requesting that she stay up late with him to read some more. In fact, in the midst of her reading, he opened his mouth and blurted: "Would you mind staying? I mean… errr, later. Staying up a bit later. I really enjoy this book." Then he immediately felt guilt wash over him and an embarrassed blush flooded his cheeks. "I-I'm, errr…. I apologize. That was selfish to ask. You probably have a family to go home to. You need time away from this place just like everyone else."

Krista lowered the book to peer at him from her spot in the chair beside his bed. Surprisingly enough, Reiner found her gaze to be warm, even amused. There was a pause and her expression turned thoughtful; as if she was considering whether or not to tell him something. Finally, she said, "I don't need time away, Mr. Braun. I live here."

His eyes widened. "You what?"

Her expression was humorous. "Who do you think kept watch over you through all hours of the night when you were first admitted?" Closing the book, she stuck her thumb between the pages to hold her place. "It's a long story, one that I am not in a position to tell, but… yes. I live here, at the hospital. It's the safest - … well, it's my home. So the answer to your question is 'yes,' I will stay up late with you tonight." Her smile broadened. "Does that satisfy you?"

Reiner sat back, frowning. He wondered briefly what she'd meant when she'd begun to say that the hospital was the "safest" place for her. Like she was running away or hiding from something. What did a simple nurse have to hide from? But deciding he didn't want to push Krista or upset her, he bit back all of his questions and nodded. Her smile gave him a funny, warm feeling in the pit of his stomach and he felt the sudden need to look away as she re-opened the book to read once more.

XXX

Bertholdt had wanted to leave California immediately after that phone call from the nurse at the Pittsburgh hospital, but of course he couldn't just disobey or abandon his orders. He would have to wait until he and his squad were reassigned and hope that if the assignment wasn't in Pennsylvania, that he could take a day or two to visit Reiner before dispatching to the new location.

He ended up having to wait a little over a week. He and the rest of the squad (minus Marco) kept the beaches secured from further Tyrannos attacks; while they were still coming in greater numbers, he and the others had thought up some good tactics to keep them off the sand without engaging in battle.

One of those tactics being land mines.

During that week, he'd received a rather unexpected call…

… from Annie. When he saw her name on the screen of his cell phone, he'd felt his heart beat a little faster and sweat develop under his collar. He'd been thinking of her pretty frequently lately, and it just so happened that she decided to call him? Was this mere coincidence... or something more? He remembered every word exchanged like it had happened moments ago. _"Bertholdt," she'd said as soon as he'd answered. Hearing her voice again brought both pain and pleasure. Pleasure because he loved her… pain because he still had that untold confession sitting in the pit of his stomach, threatening to come up like word vomit._

"_A-Annie," he'd stuttered, feeling his breath catch. "I-Is… is something wrong?"_

"_I don't have much time," had been her clipped response. "I need to tell you something - I don't know if we'll be seeing each other ever again."_

_Bertholdt's pulse had picked up significantly now and he could feel sweat matting his dark hair down to his forehead. "W-What are you talking about? O-Of course we will," he protested. "Annie, what's happened?"_

"_I… Well, weeks ago, I overheard military officials talking with the President… a meeting. They were trying to introduce a risky experimental program and I heard my name among the recruits… a week ago, they coerced me into joining. They tried to make it seem like I willingly volunteered, and they'll tell anyone that's the case, but - it's not true. I was forced to participate, and I'm afraid that… well, I don't know if I'll make it out. And among the names I heard for possible candidates… was Reiner's name."_

_Bertholdt had audibly gasped. "I-I know what you're talking about, Annie, a-and I'm going to try to talk Reiner o-out of it! I-I promise you when I get the chance I-I'll change his mind a-and convince him not to join!" He'd felt the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. He'd been rambling, he knew it, but he couldn't stop himself. Panic had overtaken him. "A-Annie just - I'll find a way to rescue you, I-I swear it! Don't worry, Annie, I-I'll rescue you and I'll c-convince Reiner not to join!"_

_But Annie's voice had been dull, like it always was. "You can't save me, Bertholdt… I didn't have a choice. And I don't think Reiner does, either."_

_And then she'd hung up before he could respond, and Bertholdt felt those unbidden words lingering in the back of his throat while tears stung the corners of his eyes. "I love you," he'd croaked as he put his cellphone in his pocket and returned to his duties._

At the end of the week, Bertholdt and his squad had received new orders - citizen management at a city in Pennsylvania. Was this just more luck - or fate, again? As they were flown across the country, Bertholdt kept replaying his conversation with Annie over and over in his head until he'd had the whole thing memorized and he'd felt nauseated. Annie… a part of the Titan program… possibly dead already… and he never had the chance to tell her he loved her. To share his feelings.

Not that it would have mattered. Reiner had been convinced for a long time that Annie returned Bertholdt's feelings, but the tall lanky brunette knew better. He honestly wasn't sure if Annie was even capable of having feelings, romantic or otherwise. He was positive Reiner knew that too and was just trying to make him feel better.

The first thing Bertholdt did after landing and checking in at the military base in Washington, Pennsylvania, was take a cab to Pittsburgh. His destination: the Ohio Valley Hospital. A few of the squad had wanted to come with him, so they grouped together to pay for their own cab to the next city. Overall, five soldiers came into the Ohio Valley Hospital demanding to know Reiner Braun's room number.

And, hopefully, Bertholdt would manage to get some alone time so he could potentially talk his blond friend out of making a grave mistake.

XXX

Krista had stayed with him late that night like she'd promised, reading to him into the wee hours of the morning, and she'd also stayed with him the subsequent nights as well, until a week had passed. Reiner's thoughts briefly strayed to the fact that he still hadn't gotten those papers and his comrades still hadn't come to see him despite Krista giving them a phone call, but honestly, his head was still in an okay place, considering the circumstances. Perhaps it was the hope of getting his arms and legs back, or perhaps it was the warm and sunny company Krista always provided… whatever it was, Reiner felt himself feeling somewhat… happy. Sure, he'd have liked to have never lost his limbs, and the nightmare in Marrakech replayed in his head some nights, making it hard to sleep, but he felt hope. Hope that some good might come of this tragedy. And in a way, some good already had come - he'd met Krista, whom he realized after a while that he was developing feelings for. There was something about the sparkle in her blue eyes as she looked at him, or maybe it was the way her blonde hair fell into her fair as she focused on reading the book in her hands… the way she fearlessly talked back to him when he stepped out of line, all while keeping him alive. She was a goddess. Where had she been all his life? And why on earth did such an extraordinary woman live at a hospital?

Reiner found himself more and more intrigued by her; so much so that he knew he'd sorely miss her when he was transported off to become part of the Titan program. He wondered… if he ever got his limbs back, if he ever had some freedom… maybe he could come back. Maybe he could hear her read to him one more time. Maybe even… ask her on a date?

'_You're pushing it too far, Reiner,' _he mentally scolded himself. All of these scenarios were dependent on a big _'if.' _There was always the possibility he wouldn't get his limbs back. And with how frightened Krista seemed of the program, maybe there was a chance he wouldn't come back from it at all.

Tonight was the same routine as usual; Krista came into his room and busied herself with taking some vitals and logging them. As her gentle hands wrapped a blood pressure monitor around his bicep, Reiner could feel a warmth bloom in his stomach that wouldn't go away; it in fact persisted and even grew as she pulled open his hospital gown a bit to reveal his bare chest so she could hear his heart rhythm. The feeling of her skin against his was enough to merit a hot blush that dusted his gaunt cheeks, and he could feel a pleasant tingling in his body for the first time in a while. Her voice made him look up quickly. "Are you alright, Mr. Braun?" Concern was written all over her face.

"P-Please, just call me Reiner," he rasped before clearing his throat and glancing away.

A pause. Then, she continued her check-up silently, but when he looked over at her once more, there was a soft smile on her lips. Krista took all vitals and then cleaned and re-dressed all of his wounds, which took a while. After that, she turned toward the door, but paused and looked back at him with a smile. "I have to go make some rounds, but I'll be back in a bit," she said. "I have a new book tonight."

Reiner's face lit up and he nodded eagerly, watching her go and trying to memorize her every feature. He noticed he'd been doing that pretty frequently lately; the staring. He just didn't want to forget her face when she left. But, honestly, he doubted that he could forget Krista Lenz even in a million years.

A few minutes after she left, Reiner had settled back for a morphine-induced nap when a small crowd appeared in his doorway and herded into his room. He recognized them all immediately and their presence caused a lump to form in his throat, tears threatening to sting the corners of his eyes. "Privates Jaeger, Springer, Braus, and Kierschtein; salute your Captain," Bertholdt Hoover commanded, before straightening himself and doing the same.

All five soldiers saluted Reiner silently for a long moment before he finally croaked, "At ease." As soon as he did, the four Privates surrounded his bedside with relieved hugs and gestures, as well as a million questions - until they were interrupted by another appearance at the door. Krista had come back with a medicine cup in her hand, but stopped in the doorway when she saw Reiner's guests.

"I can come back," she began, a large smile curling her lips. Joy danced in her blue eyes as she saw the small but slightly noisy celebration going on behind the curtains. Reiner could only give a cursory nod as Connie and Sasha bombarded him with stories of their time in California, but his gaze and his thoughts continued to linger on her.

XXX

Bertholdt Hoover had a mission to accomplish at Ohio Valley Hospital. Mission number one: speak with the kind nurse who'd informed him of Reiner's predicament; and two, have a heart-to-heart with Reiner himself. After their heart-felt salute, the other soldiers wasted no time in talking to Reiner, asking questions and telling stories. No one had mentioned Marco right away; perhaps they were saving the worst news for later, or perhaps they wanted that grim responsibility to be Bertholdt's. When the blonde nurse left the small curtained-off area, he followed. He knew that nurse was the one who'd spoken to him over the phone; he could hear it in her voice. Once they were a few feet away, he cleared his throat. "M-Ma'am?"

She jumped, nearly dropping the cup she'd been carrying. Turning to face him, she focused large blue eyes on him, having to tip her head back to even look him in the eye. Their height difference was almost shocking. Bertholdt, suddenly feeling very hesitant, scratched the back of his neck. "I-I, erm… Master Gunnery Sergeant Bertholdt Hoover at your service, ma'am. I'm hoping you're… Ms. Lenz?"

"Krista, please." The nurse's face softened and a smile curled her lips. "Mr. Braun told me how tall you were. He's told me a lot about you."

Bertholdt felt his pulse quicken, although whether that was a good or bad thing, he wasn't sure. He oddly felt both nervous and relaxed around this woman; relaxed, because it was clear she had a kind and nurturing nature… but nervous, because of that very fact. He almost didn't feel worthy of speaking to her. He was probably right to assume that was how Reiner felt, too. He was sure Reiner was feeling quite a lot of negative things lately. The pressing need to speak frankly with his friend had come over him once more, so the shaky brunette cleared his throat again and bowed his head to her. "I-I just wanted to say thank you, for your warning over the phone. I… I received a phone call from a, erm… a friend of mine. A few days ago. She was… she was taken, as well."

Krista frowned deeply, and Bertholdt had the random thought that a frown didn't suit her at all. "You mean into the…"

"Y-Yes," he answered, his voice wavering. His composure was quickly crumbling, remembering the terrible phone call he'd received from Annie, so he took a deep breath to try and steady himself. It didn't help much. "I-I'm going to speak to Reiner. But my friend… she told me… that we may not have a choice."

Krista rested her free hand on his arm in a comforting gesture, the frown still sullying her lips. "Just do what you can. And don't blame yourself if it happens."

When Bertholdt returned to Reiner's bedside, he gently dismissed the Privates, who all agreed that Sasha's idea to raid the cafeteria was sound. Krista had maintained her space to give them some privacy. Finally, Bertholdt was alone with his closest friend. Sitting down gingerly on the edge of the bed, he peered at the blond closely. Reiner squinted at him. "Jean seemed… different," he observed.

Bertholdt nodded sadly. "We lost Marco last week."

He looked down at the plain tan bed sheets so he couldn't see Reiner's reaction, but Bertholdt could hear the croak in his Captain's voice as he lamented the loss. "Oh, God. Jesus Christ." There was a long moment of silence; when Bertholdt finally dared to glance up, he found Reiner with his face in his hands. Mourning. Finally, with a sniffle, the blond mumbled, "I know death is a part of our jobs. Plenty of us die every day, serving our country - but… Oh, God. Marco. He was…"

"... one of us," Bertholdt finished solemnly. Looking down, the brunette found himself twiddling his fingers nervously. He'd been so anxious to talk to Reiner that he hadn't noticed how uneasy he really was about the topic. He knew how patriotic, loyal, and dedicated Reiner was - he was the best soldier Bertholdt knew, and he knew a lot of them - so convincing him not to join this program, or to even reconsider it, would be no easy task. "L-Listen - Reiner - "

But Reiner seemed buried in his own thoughts. There was a small smile on the blond's haggard face, though, which sparked curiosity. What was he smiling about? What did he have to smile about, in this mess? _Negative thinking isn't helpful_, Bertholdt reminded himself harshly. "I-I'm glad you're okay," Bertholdt finally amended, looking sheepish. "You seem… better than I'd anticipated…"

Reiner's expression was indecipherable for a moment. He seemed to be staring not at Bertholdt, but through him, past the curtains. A hint of a smile curled his stubbled mouth. "Yeah," he rumbled. "She's been taking excellent care of me."

Bertholdt's eyebrows raised. So that was what it was. He hadn't been entirely sure what he'd witnessed between Reiner and Krista when he'd walked in, but now he knew. Reiner liked her. Which… was odd. Reiner was so dedicated to his job that he rarely had time for women. "Ms. Lenz," Bertholdt affirmed with a nod. "She seems like a kind person."

Reiner, always perceptive, squinted at him. "How'd you know her name?"

Bertholdt hesitated. Pursing his lips apprehensively, he folded his hands on his lap, fingers clenching each other tightly. "Reiner… I… received a call, earlier this week." A pause. Then, shakily: "from Annie."

Reiner was quiet. "Must've been somethin' bad for her to bother contacting us."

Bertholdt's fingers flexed restlessly, the tension causing his shoulders to ache with rigidity. "Have you been approached by General Smith? About something called… the _Titan Program?" _Reiner's silence was very telling. Bertholdt took a deep breath. "Th-That was what Annie called me about… she was, err… recruited there."

Reiner's lips lifted into a smirk. "Well how about that. Lazy Annie? Agreeing to join an experimental program? I guess I'll be workin' with her closely, then."

"Th-That's… the thing, Reiner," Bertholdt murmured, shaking his head. He thought to keep his voice from quivering. "Sh-She… she didn't… volunteer. She was forced. And… the way her voice sounded when she called me… I-I don't think she's ever coming back."

When Bertholdt had to choke back tears, he felt the blond's clumsy attempt to pat his back - but it was more of an awkward brush of his bandaged stump. Completely avoiding the topic of the _Titan Program, _Reiner asked, "did you ever tell her?"

"No."

"But - "

"I almost did." Bertholdt hastily wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his camo jacket, looking back up. "Listen, Reiner, I'm serious - if they've approached you about that… program, you've got to put your foot down -"

"Bert - "

"NO," the brunette argued with a vehemence that surprised even himself. "You could _die, _Reiner - "

"Are we interrupting something?"

The voice at the curtains yanked Bertholdt to his feet and he stood at attention, saluting the new figures standing at the edge of the small area. Even Reiner saluted them with his stumps, fighting back a groan of pain. Behind them, Krista poked her head through the curtains with an apologetic expression, as if to say_, "I tried to delay them."_

Upon seeing the stern faces of Brigadier General Zoe and Colonel Ackerman, Bertholdt couldn't smother the pang of fear that bloomed in his chest, electrifying his veins and causing his blood to run cold. A drop of sweat rolled slowly down his forehead, and he was suddenly very aware of how guilty he looked. He tried to keep a neutral expression; a crucial task, because Levi was scrutinizing him with flinty, cold eyes. Reiner was the first to speak, and his voice sounded much more confident than Bertholdt's would have been. "Not at all, sir. How can we serve?"

Levi spoke up. "We've got your paperwork, Captain Braun," he said, gesturing with a tilt of his head for Hange to deliver the aforementioned items. "And Gunnery Sergeant Hoover; it's quite impeccable timing that you're here. We've got the exact same paperwork for you. Welcome to the _Titan Program."_

XXX

Bertholdt's stomach fell into his feet and ice crept up his spine. For a long, painful moment, he was speechless, simply gaping at the three higher-ups with a slack jaw. Finally he was able to compose his crumbling composure just enough to stutter incredulously, "S-Sir? I-I…"

"Close your mouth before you catch a fly in it," Levi snapped. "Spit out your question."

Bertholdt looked between them, Colonel Ackerman and Brigadier General Zoe, with wide eyes. He probably looked like a ghost. "B-But… I-I… _why… me?"_

"Why, because you're the best damn sharpshooter the U.S. Marine Corps has to offer, of course!" Hange Zoe exclaimed, her eyes glittering with excitement. She seemed barely able to contain herself as she passed another large folder to Bertholdt, whose grip was so slack that he almost dropped it, fumbling desperately to catch it before it flopped to the ground. Hange, who was either oblivious to the blunder or simply didn't care, continued in a ravenous tone: "We are very excited to welcome such fine specimen to this program~ You men will change the world as we know it!"

Bertholdt opened his mouth to protest, but found himself too afraid to speak up. Not surprising. He'd never been one to get himself into trouble. What was surprising, however, was Reiner's sudden cynicism: "And what happens to those to don't agree to join?"

"I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding," Hange responded in a syrupy voice. "You don't have a choice."

"Finish your paperwork promptly, soldiers," Levi ordered apathetically. "We'll be transferring you to the Titan facility once it goes through."

The interaction ended with stiff, uncomfortable salutes. As soon as the two officials were gone, Bertholdt slumped onto the edge of Reiner's bed, visibly shaking. The tone in Reiner's voice was surprisingly grim and laced with bitterness. "I guess we'll be seeing Annie again after all."

XXX

"Date of birth?"

"August the first, twenty seventy-one."

"Ah, so you're 28. So… young, for a Captain."

Reiner's brows furrowed. "How old are you?"

Krista looked up from the paperwork she was filling out for him, a bemused glint in her eyes. "Don't you know it's impolite to ask a lady her age, Mr. Braun?"

Reiner felt his face flood with heat and he fidgeted in his bed uncomfortably, averting his gaze. "I… erm. I'm sorry, I—"

Krista laughed, a sound that that rang as clear and beautiful as a chime. "I'm just teasing you," she assured him. "I'm only a few years younger than you."

"When is your birthday?" Reiner probed. Each time he got a glimpse into her life, he was desperately hungry to know more.

"January the fifteenth," she answered almost coyly.

His brows rose. "That's coming up in just a few months," he noted. "I… do you have any plans for it?" It was out before he could stop it, and the bulky blond man found himself blushing again. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

But she only smiled shyly, glancing back down at the pile of papers in her lap. "Not that I know of. Usually I celebrate it with Ymir, but —"

"Isn't that the woman who used to be next door?" Reiner's brows furrowed. "I noticed I didn't hear her complaining anymore. What happened to her? Did she get better?"

Krista bit down on her lip, and Reiner could see the sudden rigidity in her petite shoulders. She was clamming up. He could tell. Reiner leaned toward her where she sat on the corner of his hospital bed, his golden eyes intense. "What happened, Krista?" He asked firmly.

Another moment of tense silence passed and finally Krista let out a breath, and when she inhaled again, her breaths were shaky. Tears pricked the corners of her lovely blue eyes. "She got the same visit you did," the blonde finally whispered. "Why is why I was so scared when it happened to you. I haven't seen her since that day… and I didn't want…"

Reiner ached to reach out and grasp her hand. His desire to comfort her was so overwhelming that his missing limbs began to burn with a phantom pain, pain that he couldn't quell with an unlimited about of morphine. Between gritted teeth, he said softly, "I will see you again."

Krista looked up and when she met his gaze, he found tears spilling down her cheeks and staining the documents in her trembling fingers. "People have _died _in that program, Mr. Braun," she cried.

Reiner was silent for a long moment, chewing anxiously on his lip. Finally, he let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, and fixed her with a small, reassuring smile. "Don't you think we're way past the formalities…?" He asked gently. "Reiner. Just Reiner. Please."

She swallowed heavily and nodded, regaining her composure. "Reiner," she muttered, hastily wiping her eyes and continuing to work.

Even as she filled out answers and wrote signatures on his behalf, and as he fed her the right information, Reiner couldn't get his mind off of the other woman; Ymir. She was in the _Titan Program_, and if she wasn't dead already, he would most likely meet her. From the way Krista spoke, it sounded like they were close; if he could repay her for her kindness since his arrival at Ohio Valley, he would. As she was signing a paper over halfway through the stack, he cleared his throat and she paused, glancing up at him. "I, uhm… was thinking," he began hesitantly.

Big blue eyes blinked once in curiosity. Krista slowly set down her pen, waiting. Reiner felt his heart begin hammering again, and the beeps on the monitor sped up too, as if rattling on him. Casting a bitter glance at the machine, the blond continued, "If she's alive… I'll see her. Y-Ymir, I mean. If you want me to… I don't know, pass a letter to her… or something… I will."

Krista simply stared in silence for a long moment, a silence that stretched so long he was beginning to have second thoughts. Slowly, she set the file down on the bed beside her, expression indecipherable.

Then she leaned in across the bed, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. She was hugging him. Reiner could feel the warmth of her body against him, and could smell the sweet floral scent of her shampoo as her head tucked into the crook of his neck. Reiner didn't know what to do or how to respond, other than glancing angrily at the heart monitor once more for squealing wildly. He fought to control the blush spreading through his face and neck all the way to the tips of his ears; and he hated himself for not being physically able to return the embrace. When Krista finally pulled away, there were fresh tears in her eyes. "Thank you," she said. "I'll make sure to have it written before…"

"I know."

XXX

Having Bertholdt with him made leaving Ohio Valley hospital considerably less miserable. Reiner has missed him great during the time he'd been bedridden. Still, saying goodbye to Krista wasn't easy. She hadn't hugged him again — would've been inappropriate considering Colonel Ackerman was standing right there, but when she checked his chest bandages one last time, she had discreetly placed a small envelope underneath one of the outer layers; it was the letter she'd written to Ymir. And Reiner would stay true to his word and deliver it.

He still remembered the look in her eyes when she told him goodbye. The heat in her gaze had been enough to send a jolt of electricity right down his spine, spiking his heart monitor and making the stubs of his limbs tingle with both pain and pleasure. No time had been wasted in carting him out of the hospital and onto a medical chopper; the only people inside were the pilot, Bertholdt, Colonel Ackerman, and himself. The ride was short yet unpleasant. Reiner has asked a question or two only to get a cold stare in response. Apparently the Colonel wasn't in the mood to answer them. Reiner's thoughts turned inward pretty quickly, and he could feel the discomfort of the paper envelope brushing against his skin. Krista's letter. A selfish part of him wondered what she'd written to Ymir. With the emotional response he'd gotten when he mentioned Ymir, he had a gnawing suspicion that Krista shared more than mere friendship with her… and although he had no claim to her, he felt an uncomfortable pang in his chest. He also had no claim to read the letter that seemed to be burning a hole in his chest, but he was heavily considering it.

And had made his decision with Levi got up to go talk to the pilot in the cockpit. Reiner got Bertholdt's attention and gestured down at his chest. The brunette squinted and pursed his lips in confusion. "Grab it and open it for me?" Reiner prompted.

Bertholdt hesitated, as if doing this wasn't his place, but obeyed and slipped the envelope out from under the bandages and opened it up with fidgety hands. "What is this…?" He asked quietly.

"I need to read it," Reiner replied, unwilling to give more information. Bertholdt glanced down at the letter in his grasp, and when he seemed to catch on to the situation, his green eyes narrowed and he focused on Reiner.

"You don't want to read this," he said in an unusually firm voice.

"Yes, I do."

Bertholdt hesitated again, but relented and held it out for the blond to read. And a mere paragraph in, Reiner could see why Bertholdt had given him such a warning. It was abundantly clear that Krista loved Ymir — whether platonically, or romantically, less clear; but the words 'soul-mate' written in fine print bounced around in Reiner's brain like a violent pinball. _Soul-mates. You will always be my soul-mate, Ymir. Wherever you are._

Reiner felt an unfamiliar lump form in the back of his throat, and he soon realized it as a symptom of jealousy and heart-break. This was new to him. He barely had time for dating at all, much less an unrequited love. He wasn't prepared for this — nor was he prepared for the pain that shot through him, starting where his limbs should've been. Bertholdt saw him grit his teeth and hastily put the letter away, resting a hand on the blond's shoulder. "Just hang on," he said softly.

The rest of the ride was just as tense as before, if not more so, considering Reiner's new and sorrowful realizations concerning his love life — or lack thereof. Levi didn't notice, or if he did, he didn't care, and silence ruled as they flew southeast, toward Washington D.C. many monuments and historical memorials were passed on their journey to the Titan facility — they'd even passed the White House. Reiner didn't bother to watch. He'd been inside it before, once or twice.

Finally the chopper stopped moving forward and simply hovered for a long minute before finally setting down and shutting off. The soldiers waited until the blades had come to a complete stop before lowering the ramp and carting Reiner's wheelchair out onto the landing pad. Before them was a large, nondescript building that didn't look official in any way, shape, or form — which meant it most definitely was a government building. Inside wasn't much different; drab gray walls and sparse decoration. A poised woman at the front desk with nothing on it except a computer and a telephone. Seeing the stoic visage of Colonel Ackerman straightened her posture and she quickly made a phone call, waving them past.

Reiner, Bertholdt, and the Colonel went through hallway after hallway, with the shortest of the three leading the way; despite the repetitiveness of their surroundings, he seemed to know where he was going. Finally, after what felt like hours of awkward silence, Levi stopped at a door and turned to them with narrowed eyes. "Don't touch anything. Not that you'll have the chance to."

Then he opened the door, and Reiner was immediately assaulted with a barrage of noises, bright lights, and moving equipment. Squinting his eyes, he lifted an arm to help shield them as he tried his best to take in the overwhelming difference. When one thought of a secret government laboratory, _this _was what came to mind. Experimental, advanced technology filled the room, scientists bustled about in their white lab coats, and at the center of it all was Brigadier General Hange Zoe. There was so much going on that Reiner struggled to catalogue everything. If he was going to live here for the time being, he should know where everything was. But the room was so large that it was absolutely impossible to see everything from this angle. Before he had time to analyze the are any further, Hange bounced into his line of sight, grinning from ear to ear. How could a woman so intense and high-strung be of such high rank in the military? Turning to Levi, the taller woman slung an arm around him before he could stop her. "Thanks for bringing my test subjects to me in one piece, handsome," she crooned. When Levi irritably shrugged her off, she didn't resist, instead turning to the two soldiers.

"Captain Braun, Sergeant Hoover," she greeted, clapping her hands together gleefully_. "Welcome to Titan Coliseum."_


	5. Chapter Four: Death of Me

_**Impetum Terrae: Attack on Earth**_

**Characters: **Reiner Braun (Captain, Marines)

Historia Reiss (military nurse, president's daughter)

Bertholdt Hoover (Master Gunnery Sergeant, Marines)

Annie Leonhart (Special Agent, Secret Service)

Ymir Wikstrom (Private First Class, Marines)

Eren Jaeger (Private First Class, Marines)

Mikasa Ackerman (Sergeant, Marines)

Armin Arlert (Logistics, Private First Class, Marines)

Sasha Braus (Private First Class, Marines)

Connie Springer (Private First Class, Marines)

Jean Kirschtein (Private First Class, Marines)

Marco Bodt (Private First Class, Marines)

Levi Ackerman (Colonel, Marines)

Hange Zoe (Brigadier General, Marines)

Erwin Smith (General, Marines)

Dot Pixis (Admiral, Coast Guard)

Nile Dok (Director, Secret Service)

Darius Zackly (Vice President)

Rod Reiss (President)

*Other characters will be mentioned in the story. NOTE: These are real existing ranks in the military. I didn't make any of this up.*

_**Chapter Four: Death of Me**_

Hange wasted no time in giving them a full tour. By the time she'd taken them around the entire coliseum, Reiner had the place memorized. A habit of his. More important than the equipment were the people who habited this place; he saw mostly scientists and other researchers, but he spotted a few other test subjects, too; he wondered if they would survive this. Reiner strained his vision to try and find Ymir among all of them, or even Annie, but neither of them were there. Reiner didn't have to look at Bertholdt to know he was doing exactly the same, and feeling the same fear when Annie was nowhere to be found. Perhaps she was elsewhere in the facility. Perhaps she was asleep. Perhaps she was dead.

Bertholdt wheeled Reiner through a set of double doors, still following Hange's lead. Going down another hallway, this one much darker and more narrow than the previous ones, the soldiers followed their superior until the hallway branched off and they veered left. Reiner counted three doors that they passed along the way. Finally, at the fourth door, Hange stopped. "This is where you'll be rooming, fellas," she said cheerfully, unlocking the door and allowing them inside. "Get comfortable. Now we want to get the testing phase underway as soon as possible, so we'll start bright and early in the morning. I'd suggest you get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be rough.~"

They stared at her incredulously as she left. Bertholdt sat limply on one of the two small beds in the bare room. A long silence ensued, finally broken by Reiner. "... it's only 5 o'clock."

Bertholdt simply put his face in his hands. With the adrenaline fading, Reiner could feel an ache settling in his missing limbs and glanced over at the IVs attached to his chair. He desperately hoped one of them was Morphine. That stuff was liquid gold. That sudden thought brought a mortifying realization to the blond: it was very possible that he was now addicted to Morphine. He hadn't really caught his symptoms before now, since he'd lived a very straight-laced life without the aid of drugs; but the itching, the circling of his mind, and the crankiness when the drip wasn't high enough were all signs. Oh, God. He was about to start the next chapter of his life as an addict.

He had to do something, anything to keep his mind from spiraling out of control; when he looked up, he focused his gaze on Bertholdt who hadn't moved an inch, his face still hidden. Reiner immediately understood why. "I didn't see her either," he murmured.

A sniffle came from behind the brunette's hands. "I never… I never got to…"

Reiner grimaced. "Bert… Annie may be lazy, but she's tough as nails. She's here, somewhere. I… I can feel it."

Bertholdt finally ran his hands down his face, smearing the tears that had gathered there. A rueful smile curled his lips. "I appreciate you trying to make me feel better." He paused. "Are you okay, though? With… well, everything?"

No, he wasn't. But Reiner preferred smothering his feelings over talking about them, so he simply gave his friend a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Bertholdt wasn't convinced and Reiner knew it, but they let the subject go. When it was time to sleep, Bertholdt helped Reiner into bed and didn't speak again for the rest of the night.

XXX

Reiner was the only person sitting amongst a line-up of participants; a fact that made him feel ostracized and, quite frankly, useless. The line up consisted of himself, Bertholdt, and several strangers, some of which were military — which he could tell by the way they straightened their spines and stood rigidly at attention — and a few were… civilians. That knowledge deeply bothered Reiner. What were ordinary citizens doing here?

He didn't have time to dwell on the thought, because Hange appeared before them, adjusting her glasses and looking rather eager. "I realize it's quite early, but we have a full schedule ahead of us, my little lab rats!" she exclaimed. Reiner furrowed his brows. Wasn't she a very high-ranking government official? He'd been expecting one of the other scientists here to be overseeing their training. Being Brigadier General was a busy and pressing job. As if reading his mind, Hange said, "I realize that you all may have been expecting someone in a lower position to be working so closely with you, but since extra funds have been added to the _Titan Program, _I've also been allotted more time here; and frankly, I personally want to oversee your training so that we can select the very best candidates for the job. This is a big responsibility, and I hope you all realize the grave importance of your presence here. Now, let's begin."

Hange took them through the facility to a small set of squared off rooms situated snugly in the rear of the building. Bertholdt had taken it upon himself to push Reiner from place to place. When they entered the set of rooms, Reiner took the place in with furrowed brows. Seeing chairs hooked up to computers with multiple monitors had him confused, and everyone else seemed to mirror his sentiment. Reiner had feared that their tests would involve physical training - something he couldn't possible do in his current state - so seeing this had him both relieved, and even more worried. Hange's response to their whispers was a mere smug smile. "Confused, are you?" she asked, settling her hands on her hips and relishing in the knowledge that she had the power here. The Brigadier General certainly had a god complex. "Physical tests aren't exactly necessary, considering all of you are in prime shape," she explained. "We wouldn't have hand-picked you otherwise. No, our examinations will take place right _here." _For embellishment, she tapped the side of her head with a finger. "We need to know that you're not only physically fit, but that you have a sound mind, as well. Your mental fortitude will be thoroughly tested here. It will be difficult. It will be painful. I suggest you all do your very best."

The next several hours were a blur, a blur Reiner never wanted to go through again. When Hange had said she'd test their mental fortitude, she hadn't been lying or exaggerating. Reiner and all the other candidates had been put in the chairs that lined the sectioned-off rooms and all of them had been injected with a serum that felt like ice; after that, they were hooked up to the computers and subsequently put into a sort of dream-state. There, they'd been put to various tasks - tasks designed to test their decision-making skills, identify their fears, and push them to their limits_. "How far are you willing to go?" _a strange woman in the dream had asked, sending a chill down his spine. He hadn't known how to answer then, and even as they were sent to a small kitchen area for midday rations, he still didn't know.

"If that was a dream, it sure as hell felt like the realest dream I ever had," Reiner overheard one of the soldier candidates talking as they all ate. Bertholdt, who sat across from Reiner, hadn't spoken all day and looked as pale as a sheet.

Reiner leaned over his untouched bowl of soup, peering at the brunette. "They've got us all shaken," he reassured his friend. "What happened in your dream?"

Bertholdt finally looked up from his soup. His green eyes flashed with fear, annoyance, or maybe a combination of the two. "I was alone, in the dark," he murmured. "And I was ordered to lead a squad of soldiers into a suicide mission. Despite knowing we were all going to die..."

Reiner frowned. "... Did you do it?"

Bertholdt glanced away.

Reiner, in an attempt to distract his friend, said, "In mine, I was ordered to… to kill someone. That person was a liability, and I had to… dispose of them."

"Did you do it…?"

Reiner swallowed a lump forming in his throat. "... Yes."

Bertholdt quickly averted his gaze once more, stirring his soup with a wooden spoon. He hadn't touched it. Reiner suddenly didn't have an appetite anymore, either. Not that he had the limbs to feed himself, anyways. He'd had to do what he'd had to do… couldn't Bertholdt see that?

XXX

Days passed, and then a week. During that time, each of the candidates were tested and pushed to their very limits. Meals were left untouched. Nights were sleepless. It was hell. Not to mention, Reiner had been struggling with his morphine addiction and was feeling the side effects of withdrawal. The overall tension had made things worse between Reiner and Bertholdt, as well, and it didn't help that neither of them had so much as spotted Annie or any other familiar face in this Godforsaken place. Only scientists, equipment, and other test subjects undergoing various forms of torture, all in the name of research. Reiner wondered if any of this was worth it. If even the possibility of getting his limbs back was worth it. Suicidal thoughts brimmed in the back of his mind, but he always shoved them down, lock-jawed and pushing forward to the next task.

One night, Bertholdt had helped Reiner into his bed, but before he could pull away to dismiss himself to his own bed, the blond lurched forward to grab his friend's shirt - only to find that he, of course, couldn't. "Wait," Reiner said, voice broken and hoarse from screaming.

Bertholdt's voice was equally faint and raspy. "What?"

"I know this is hard on both of us, but…" Reiner searched for the right words. "We have to stick together. You're… you're all I've got."

Bertholdt's expression softened. Letting out a tired sigh, he moved to sit on the edge of Reiner's bed, staring at the floor. "I… you're right. This is just…"

"Hell."

"Yeah." Bertholdt let his words hang in the air for a long moment before lifting his head and glancing over at the blond. "Reiner, we - "

The door opened abruptly, causing both soldiers to lift their gazes to it, surprised. In the door stood Hange, and… Colonel Levi Ackerman. "Yes, we realize what time it is," Hange snapped impatiently. "You two. You've been chosen. Get up, get dressed, and prepare yourselves. Now is the time."

The two men jumped to attention, and Bertholdt hurriedly pulled his clothes on before assisting Reiner with his own and getting him into his wheelchair. The higher-ups could have assisted with this, but chose to stand imperiously in the doorway. Reiner could feel his heart thumping rapidly in his chest as Bertholdt pushed him out of the room, in hot pursuit of Hange and Levi, whose pace was brisk and businesslike. He wasn't sure what Colonel Ackerman was doing here, other than to spectate; he wondered if anyone else would be watching when it happened.

Back out into the Coliseum they went, passing by various exercise equipment, experiments in progress, and bustling scientists. Who on earth was still working at this hour? Science never sleeps, Reiner supposed. He didn't linger on it long, however, because he was breathing too fast to concentrate on much of anything. His fight-or-flight responses had kicked in and breathing techniques weren't helping. This was it. He would either get his limbs back, or he would die. Was he ready to die? Was it even worth it if he lived…? What if something went wrong? Would his last breaths really be taken amongst the cold hard faces of his superiors?

They reached a set of medical chairs that sat in front of a large tank of green-ish, swirling liquid. What that liquid was, Reiner didn't know, and he didn't _want_ to know. "To take every precaution, we have some medical staff present," Hange mentioned, and they were met with four people, all in white coats. One of them, Reiner realized with a pang of both pleasure and pain in his chest, was Krista. When she saw him, her face brightened. His didn't. He could only force a hint of a smile her way. He honestly didn't know how he felt about her at this point; he longed for her, but his new knowledge of her complicated relationship with Ymir held him back. The hurt on her face in response to his reaction made his chest clench uncomfortably.

The two accompanying doctors hauled Reiner into one of the chairs while Bertholdt climbed anxiously into another. He noticed the brunette was shaking, but then again, so was he. Krista pinned Bertholdt to the chair with thick leather straps that buckled at the ends, then made her way over to Reiner, doing the same. "How are you feeling?" she asked quietly as she worked.

"Scared," he whispered sincerely.

Krista moved down to strap in his waist and what remained of his legs. When she was all done, she came back up to his face in the pretense of adjusting the straps around his shoulders, but her hand lingered a bit and she snuck in a comforting squeeze. "Everything will be okay," she murmured, squeezing again and offering him a reassuring smile.

Reiner's romantic feelings may have been compromised, but he was truly glad she was here, at the possible end of it all.

He glanced over at Bertholdt, giving him one more nod before two doctors surrounded the brunette, blocking him from Reiner's vision. Another came over to him; Krista stood on one side while the doctor stood on the other, preparing a large syringe. Reiner eyed it warily. The needle was huge. The thought of it going into his arm alone was enough to make him balk, nevermind the actual liquid he was going to be injected with. He was so desperate that he had half a mind to request anesthesia or something, but he was a soldier. Soldiers were self-disciplined and did not show fear. So Reiner locked his jaw, stiffened up, and kept his expression stone-cold. Not even Krista's watchful gaze could soften him.

He stared straight ahead as the doctor went behind his chair and pressed the tip of the needle against the back of his neck. Was this why Krista had had to strap every inch of him down? A drop of sweat rolled down Reiner's forehead, but he didn't budge, instead grinding his teeth and biting down heavily on his tongue as the needle went in. The pain was piercing and brief - until the liquid was injected into his spine. Within moments, it spread throughout his entire body like a raging virus that had come to claim its territory. Every inch of him was being attacked, eaten. Reiner was in absolute agony - agony that opened his mouth forcibly while screams of anguish belted from his throat until it was raw. Fire, brimstone. He was positive this was what hell felt like. Not even losing his limbs could compare to this torment. And this time, no gentle hands applied pressure, no soft voices uttered calming assurances.

Everything went black.

XXX

She'd never seen anything like this before. When she'd been called to fly in from Ohio Valley, to accompany several doctors to a government facility, she hadn't expected anything like _this _\- although judging from the long and thorough waiver she'd had to sign, she should have expected something like a new breed of Tyrannos or something.

No. This was _much_ crazier.

She should've known this odd assignment had something to do with the _Titan Program. _All her suspicions were confirmed the moment she arrived. She was given a rapid relay of instructions and warnings by her superiors, only briefly being told that this procedure involved two military participants. It was her job to monitor them and assist the doctors in any way necessary.

Historia had to admit, seeing Reiner being wheeled in had been a shock for her, a pleasant one. Immediately her delight was clouded with fear; what would happen to him here? Would this serum kill him? Seeing Mr. Hoover with him made her heart grow heavy. They were both forced into this program, then… Shaking her head, she snapped out of it and set to work strapping them in. It was her duty to encourage and reassure them, even if she didn't feel it herself.

Once they were secure, she stepped back to let the doctors do their part, but she still watched vigilantly. Historia tried to make eye contact with Reiner, but he stared grimly straight ahead, his jaw locked.

What happened next quickly escalated into something Historia wasn't prepared for. Reiner barely flinched when the needle went in - astounding to show such control over his body like that - but then immediately after he was screaming in agony. His body twisted and writhed like a snake that was fighting for its life; which, she assumed he was. Bertholdt reacted in the same way - twisting, writhing, screaming bloody murder. She'd never heard such piercing, tormented sounds come from a person's mouth, not even in all her years at the hospital. Whatever had been injected into their bodies, it was eating them from the inside, breaking them down cell by cell. Historia's heart began to hammer in her chest as she watched the gruesome sight. Oh, God. They were going to die. There was no way someone could look and _sound_ like this, and make it through. She clenched her hands together at her chest to keep herself from rushing to Reiner's side to assist; ignoring her instincts were growing increasingly difficult.

And then after what seemed like hours, but was really just a few minutes, it was all over. The two soldiers sat limply in their chairs, clearly unconscious; strangely, steam was wafting from their bodies. As if their insides were on fire. Historia glanced over at the doctors, who were silently observing and typing on their tablets, then over at the military leaders, who were standing perfectly still and watching, as if they were expecting something else. Historia wanted to say something, anything, but she found herself unable to speak, still shaken by what she'd just witnessed.

As if things couldn't get any more strange, after a few moments of silently steaming, Bertholdt and Reiner began to… change. While Bertholdt's adjustment was limited to a bit of bulking up, his lanky body becoming more muscled underneath his clothing, Reiner's development was… well, she didn't have a word for it.

Steam began billowing from his body in thick clouds, partially obscuring him from everyone's view; but as Historia squinted and peered through it all, she could glimpse the miracle that was happening:

Reiner's limbs were slowly growing back.

XXX

It took Historia a brief moment to jump into action after the doctors headed into the cloud of steam, waving their arms to dissipate it. The first thing she noticed when she followed them in was that the steam was _hot_. Uncomfortably so. The second thing she noticed was that some of his clothing had been torn during his struggling. Pulling up the stethoscope from around her neck, the blonde helped check Reiner's vitals; the third thing she noticed was that his bare skin was almost scalding to the touch, and his heart was beating much faster than normal. How he was unconscious with such a racing heart, she had no idea. She assumed the pain had put him out. Historia looked Reiner's whole body over, from head to toe, still in awe. He had _arms. Hands. Fingers. Toes. _Entire limbs had grown back out of _nothing. _Historia had reached a hand to brush her fingers over his newly-regrown arm (which was also hot to the touch), when she was shooed out of the way by one of the doctors so they could finish their diagnostics. They seemed much more interested in Reiner than his companion, at least for the moment.

Hurrying over to Bertholdt, Historia found him to be in the same state: ripped clothing, scalding skin, racing heartbeat. She took some more vitals and drew some blood carefully, before stepping back and neatly putting away the valuables in a medical case they'd brought with them. The two military superiors, she now noticed, were talking quietly among themselves, perhaps going over what had just happened and what to do next. Suddenly, the woman, Hange Historia believed her name was, turned to them all and said, "Let's take them to the medical ward. We need to monitor them until they wake, just to make sure there are no more adverse effects. Understood?"

The doctors nodded their agreement, and Historia jumped in to help unstrap Reiner and haul him back into his wheelchair. She began wheeling him out while the others began carrying Bertholdt's tall, lanky body away. She didn't know this facility in the slightest, so she allowed others to lead the way and finally they arrived in a small, curtained-off section of the large building where a few hospital beds sat along with some very advanced, state of the art medical equipment. She hadn't expected such extravagance, considering how tiny the medical ward was; but she supposed that the government only used the best of everything. Historia struggled to pick up Reiner's limp body from the wheelchair, and being this close to him, she found that his skin was still burning hot. He had to have had a fever of at least 120 degrees. By all means, he should be dead… but she could hear his heart still beating fervently in his chest. He was alive, sure enough; her biggest worry now was that he would wake up with permanent brain damage - or as a vegetable. Another doctor helped her get Reiner into bed, and she pulled the white sheets up around his newly-formed legs, hooking him up to a saline drip IV and several monitors.

"You'll be staying with them, as well as Dr. Hammond," Hange said from behind her. Historia jumped in surprise before turning to face the taller brunette woman.

"Y-Yes ma'am," she responded. As Hange turned to leave, Historia called out for her attention out of instinct. Without thinking, she blurted the question that had laid heavy on her heart for a month now. "I-Is Ymir here?"

Hange stared at her for a long moment, expression indecipherable. Then, she said, "I can't answer that." And walked away.

Historia deflated like a balloon, sinking into a small chair at Reiner's bedside and letting out a shaky breath. That could have gone a lot worse, she imagined, but Hange's answer had left her feeling an impending sense of doom. She wanted to believe Ymir was alive and well, maybe training in this program to save their country. She wanted to believe that, maybe, she was even in the same building.

Dr. Hammond sat in another chair closer to Bertholdt's bed, pulling a small book from his briefcase and settling into it. Historia bitterly wished she'd brought one, too. She'd received so few details when being summoned here that she hadn't really had time to prepare or think about what she should bring. She certainly hadn't thought she'd be staying here overnight. Leaning forward slightly, she politely cleared her throat. When the other doctor finally looked up, she gave him the sweetest smile she could muster. "D-Do you have another one of those?"

XXX

_Tyrannos came at him from all sides. He was drowning in the four-legged fuckers while they did their damndest to rip and tear him limb-from-limb. Fortunately, he thought grimly, he had his limbs now. Where they'd come from, he had absolutely no idea, but damn was he glad to have them. Glad to hold a rifle, to feel its powerful spray under his hands, to stand on a jagged rock on his own two feet and give those little bastards hell. _

_But even having limbs wasn't helping him now. He was outnumbered and he knew it. To give in, or to keep fighting?_

_Just as he thought he was about to fade to nothing, Reiner was knocked off balance by a deep and powerful rumble - as if a mountain had come crashing down, chunk by chunk. __**Boom. Boom. Boom. **__That was no mountain - those were footsteps, Reiner realized as the rumbling got louder. The rhythm gave it away, the slow and steady thrum of a giant's self-assured gait. As the rumbling got impossibly loud, each step ringing painfully in his ears, the Tyrannos Mutts scurried away with their little cockroach tails between their legs, and Reiner was left alone, sitting in shock on his rear-end. _

_Through the thick mist came a figure; the giant whose footsteps had scared away the enemy. This giant was humanoid and had to be at least fifty feet tall; all skin was stripped away, and only the sinewy red muscles remained, covered with various armored plates that glinted both bronze and silver. The giant, with a loud crash that jarred Reiner to the core, knelt down before him. Its impossibly large head leaned down to look Reiner right in the eye, and he could see that its glowing eyes mirrored his own in color; a golden honey. _

"_What are you?" he asked, in awe._

_Its teeth, stripped of the protection lips provided, gnashed at him; when the giant opened its mouth, steam billowed out, scalding every inch of him. Reiner covered his face with an uplifted arm. "WHAT ARE YOU?" he yelled, uncovering his face as soon as it was safe to do so._

_The giant did not speak. Perhaps it couldn't. It did, however, lift a single finger, directing it toward him. Reiner flinched back, sure that this was it, that he was going to die, but it simply pressed the very tip of the finger against his chest. The touch was very controlled and feather-light, and the message was crystal clear:_

"_You."_

Reiner awoke with a start, covered in sweat and aching from head to toe. His mind was so panicked that out of pure instinct and adrenaline, he yanked the covers off of his body and clambered out of bed - only to fall forward, right into the person that was trying to stop him. Petite hands pressed firmly against his chest; Reiner flung an arm out to brace himself against the wall behind her so that he wouldn't topple them both over. When his vision cleared, he noticed it was Krista who was nearly sandwiched between himself and the wall. Still, he couldn't think of what to say - no, he couldn't say anything at all. He just panted and stared at her with wide eyes, trying to gather his bearings and figure out what was going on inside his body. His mind was also still reeling from the dream he'd just had - which, he wasn't even sure it _was _a dream. It felt more like… a meeting. Inside his own mind.

"Reiner?" Krista prompted breathlessly, her eyes wide with either fear or anticipation. He wasn't sure which.

He continued staring at her, although he really was staring _through _her; staring at nothing at all. He was still stuck inside his head. Finally, Reiner's eyes dragged themselves from Krista's face to glance up at his arm.

_His arm._

Reiner pushed himself off the wall, stumbling backwards until the backs of his thighs hit the edge of his hospital bed. One hand automatically went down to steady himself, while the other came up to present itself to him. Wide eyes stared at the hand as he tilted it back and forth, as if it couldn't possibly be real. A voice from behind him startled him; Krista swooped in to hold him as tightly as she could, to help steady him. Reiner glanced back to see a doctor at the other end of the small hospital bay who looked like he'd just been startled from sleep himself. Reiner couldn't focus on what the doctor was saying; he found his gaze wandering aimlessly all over the place, before finally pinpointing Bertholdt and settling on him. The brunette was still asleep, breathing evenly and peacefully. So he was alive. Reiner sagged with relief at the sight of his living, breathing friend.

"_Mister Braun," _the doctor said, his tone holding impatience. "Please. Sit. You're not ready to stand, not quite yet."

Reiner turned his head back to look down at Krista, whose body felt… cold, pressed against his. Was she simply cold, or was he…. _Hot? _

Krista gave him a squeeze that seemed to bring his mind back into focus. "Seems you're always lookin' out for me," Reiner rasped, his voice barely audible. His throat felt scraped raw.

"I guess I'm just lucky," Krista replies with a smile before helping him back into the bed. Reiner's attention returned to his newly-formed hands, which sat uselessly on his lap, and his legs, which dangled off the edge of the bed. He vaguely overheard the doctor mention to Krista that he was going to go retrieve Hange from underground.

Underground? Had he heard that right? After the doctor hurried away, Reiner turned his gaze to Bertholdt, but his question was meant for Krista. "What did he mean, 'underground?'"

Her response was timid. "I don't really know any more about this place than you do."

"Hmm." Reiner turned his full attention to Bertholdt, who was still sleeping. He wondered whether the brunette was having the same crazy dreams Reiner had had. Whether he would see the same giant within himself.

His musings were interrupted by the abrupt presence of Hange, who was breathless and over-excited. "One of them is awake!" she exclaimed, rushing in with a hungry glint in her eyes. Getting into Reiner's personal space, she began her own examination of him - but when she went to touch his bare skin, she reeled back, hissing and clenching her hand. "EEEOWWW - that shit is _hot!"_

Reiner glanced down at the arm she'd tried to touch, blinking. "I don't feel anything." But that was wrong, he found once he actually did a mental checklist of his body. He didn't feel any pain at all. In fact, he felt… great. Better than he'd ever felt in his life. Along with this physical perfection came a… power. He was sure it was the giant he'd spoken to in his dream. It remained in the back of his mind, lurking, but he could also feel it deep in his bones. The giant was right; it was him.

Hange kept her hands to herself now, instead looking Reiner up and down. "Fascinating," she kept murmuring. "Well, I knew you were a beefcake before, but now you make Captain America look bad!"

The compliment caused Reiner's cheeks to flush and he stole a glance at Krista before moving his gaze to the floor. Catching her blushing too made his stomach flip-flop. Before he could respond, Hange continued. "What's his body temp?"

Krista checked the monitors briefly, before answering shakily. "W-Wow… it's… it's 159 degrees Fahrenheit, ma'am."

"Well, no wonder it burned the hell outta me!" the Brigadier General exclaimed. "Captain Braun - how do you feel? I want a full status report."

Reiner tried his best to describe the sensations he was feeling; although he felt his explanation was clunky at best, Hange rubbed her chin thoughtfully, seeming to understand. "These results mirror those of all our previous successful candidates," she murmured, eyes roaming the room pensively. "If my guesses are correct, it seems, Captain, that you've bonded with your _Titan."_

"_Titan? _Is that what that thing is called?"

"That's what I like to call it, yes." Hange's attention moved over to Bertholdt, and moments later she was approaching the brunette's bedside. She reached out to touch his face, then yanked her hand back again, hissing. "He's scalding to the touch," she commented, looking up at the monitor and frowning. "His temperature is even higher than yours. 170. I'm surprised his brain hasn't melted under this heat."

Reiner's brows furrowed and he felt panic rise in his chest. "Are you saying he's going to die?!"

Hange was silent for a moment as she turned back to face Reiner. "There's no telling whether he'll survive," she said, "but his temperature is the highest we've ever recorded. It could just be that his _Titan_ runs hot. He could be perfectly fine."

Her words did nothing to reassure the blond. His hands clenched into fists and he waited to see if she had any further questions. Hange tapped her chin before seeming to come to a conclusion. "Alright," she began in a business-like tone. "Tomorrow morning, I'm transporting you to the lower levels. You'll immediately begin training. Is that understood, Captain Braun?"

Reiner dutifully saluted her and nodded his affirmation. His posture slacked a bit when she dismissed him. "Brigadier General Zoe?" he questioned. Hange turned to glance back over her shoulder. Reiner hesitated, before barreling forward with his question. "What's gonna happen to Bertholdt?"

Hange's gaze was so cold that it sent an unpleasant shiver down Reiner's spine. "He'll either make the cut, or he won't."

While she didn't specify what they would do if he didn't wake up, her message was perfectly clear. She left the room without another word, and Reiner found himself trembling. Bertholdt had gotten him through this mess. Reiner had to do something to help him. The doctor who'd left to retrieve Hange finally returned, still looking disheveled. "Dr. Hammond," Krista began hesitantly, as if reading Reiner's mind, "is there anything we can do to… I don't know… 'jumpstart' Mr. Hoover's heart? To wake him up?"

Dr. Hammond's face tightened. "We could push 1 milligram of epinephrine and hope that works, but I'm not sure what kind of effect it would have in combination with the serum we administered. There's a risk of permanent brain damage."

"I think there's already a risk," Krista countered seriously. "He could die if we don't do something!"

Reiner wondered why the petite blonde was so vehement about saving Bertholdt. She barely knew him. Then again, if Reiner knew anything about Krista Lenz, it was that she put others first. She was the type to rush headlong into danger just to save the life of another. And it was one of the reasons he admired her. Dr. Hammond didn't seem convinced, though. "It's better if we simply wait. Let his own body do the work. That serum is regenerative. He may be well on the way to waking himself up without our interruption."

Krista hesitated, then her face hardened. "Well, if it's a regenerative serum, then some adrenaline won't hurt him!" In a fit of courage, she barreled forward and pushed past the doctor to rummage through some drawers. Finding a syringe with the right label, she yanked it out of its wrapper, took off the protective cap, plunged it into Bertholdt's chest, and pushed in the stopper. Reiner watched as she stepped back, and they all waited to see what would happen.

They waited.

And waited.

Nothing happened. Bertholdt remained deep in slumber and his body temperature remained at a crispy 170 degrees. Steam gently wafted from his body, lingering in the air for a few moments before dissipating. Reiner slumped back on his bed, letting out a sigh of defeat. Krista looked apologetic, and Dr. Hammond looked white as a sheet. "Well," the doctor shakily began, "Now we really have no choice but to wait."


	6. Chapter 5: Lie to MeDie for You

_**Impetum Terrae: Attack on Earth**_

**Characters: **Reiner Braun (Captain, Marines)

Historia Reiss (military nurse, president's daughter)

Bertholdt Hoover (Master Gunnery Sergeant, Marines)

Annie Leonhart (Special Agent, Secret Service)

Ymir Wikstrom (Private First Class, Marines)

Eren Jaeger (Private First Class, Marines)

Mikasa Ackerman (Sergeant, Marines)

Armin Arlert (Logistics, Private First Class, Marines)

Sasha Braus (Private First Class, Marines)

Connie Springer (Private First Class, Marines)

Jean Kirschtein (Private First Class, Marines)

Marco Bodt (Private First Class, Marines)

Levi Ackerman (Colonel, Marines)

Hange Zoe (Brigadier General, Marines)

Erwin Smith (General, Marines)

Dot Pixis (Admiral, Coast Guard)

Nile Dok (Director, Secret Service)

Darius Zackly (Vice President)

Rod Reiss (President)

*Other characters will be mentioned in the story.

_**Chapter Five: Lie to Me/Die for You**_

_He laid in a hole in the ground, knees drawn to his chest. He wasn't quite sure if he was hiding, or just resting… then the series of earthquakes happened again, causing the dirt to crumble around him, and he remembered his purpose here: he was hiding from the gargantuan that kept following him and spouting steam from its pores. Its large, dead eyes watched him like a predator analyzing its prey… so he ran, he ran as fast as he could, and he hid in this hole while he waited for it to pass by._

_**Rumble, rumble, rumble. **__Just when he thought the monster was leaving, the thunderous footsteps halted, and a deep, dark shadow was cast over him. Bertholdt was afraid to open his eyes, but he did anyways, cracking them open to see a large, muscled, skinless face staring down at him intently. "Get away from me," he whispered hoarsely, feeling sweat drip down his face from the heat of this beast. It was so, so hot, and the closer that thing got, the more feverish he felt. It leaned down closer, and Bertholdt was quickly covered in darkness. It opened its mouth, still staring at him with those dead green eyes. Green eyes that mirrored his own. "GET AWAY FROM ME!" he finally screamed, trying to cover his face and scramble deeper into the hole… but there was nowhere to go. Suddenly, white-hot steam erupted from its open mouth, covering every inch of him. His skin was melting off the bones, leaving him raw, bare, in pain, dying - _

Bertholdt's eyes snapped open and as soon as he opened his mouth to cry out, the screams died in the back of his throat. Nothing would come out. His skin was drenched in sweat, his throat felt like sandpaper, and his muscles cramped severely. His attempt to stretch out and soothe his calves failed miserably. A weight on his arm pulled his gaze to his left, where he saw Reiner, who had passed out next to his bedside. The blonde's head was heavy on his arm. When Bertholdt moved his arm slightly, Reiner stirred and grumbled before slowly lifting his head and bringing his hands up to rub at his eyes blearily.

Bertholdt stared with wide eyes. "Reiner," he wheezed. "Your hands-"

Reiner abruptly stopped rubbing his eyes. Yanking his hands down into his lap, the blonde stared at Bertholdt in shock for a moment before standing up and practically throwing himself onto his best friend. "You're _awake!" _Reiner exclaimed joyfully, embracing Bertholdt even as the brunette protested. "Oh GOD, buddy, I was so scared -"

"R-Reiner, please -" Bertholdt struggled and squirmed until Reiner finally let him go. The worry on the blond's face brought a weak smile to Bertholdt's lips. Reiner the soldier was severe, dutiful, stoic, gruff. Reiner the friend was the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. Bertholdt found that he much preferred Reiner the friend.

Another figure appeared on the other side of the bed and Bertholdt found himself staring up at the nurse from Ohio Valley Hospital. "Ms. Lenz," he croaked. The relief on her face mirrored Reiner's, and Bertholdt found himself smiling again.

"I'm relieved you pulled through, Sergeant Hoover," she said, pulling a stethoscope from around her neck. "We were worried about you. I'm going to take some vitals, if that's alright."

Bertholdt gave her a grateful nod and turned his eyes to Reiner while Krista set to work. "Water?" he whispered. While Reiner acquiesced his request, Bertholdt swallowed the razors in his throat and gratefully drank from the straw the blond held out to him. After draining an entire cup, Bertholdt coughed and opened his mouth to speak again. Something dangerous lingered in the back of his mind, something that continued to bother him. "Reiner," he murmured. "Did you see…?"

Reiner turned back to him, a frown on his lips. "The giant?" he prompted.

Bertholdt nodded. "He… He wouldn't leave me alone. He was suffocating me, he was -" He cut himself off, gasping for air as his heart monitor started squealing. Krista jumped into action, grabbing an oxygen mask and pressing it to his face, forcing air into his screaming lungs.

"Breathe," he heard her say. "Breathe."

Bertholdt felt his consciousness beginning to slip as he focused on just breathing, but he held fast by a hair, if only to keep from dreaming again. He didn't want to face the giant. He didn't want to feel its scalding breath. It was an alien, lurking in the back of his mind, trying to take over him. He could feel its empty green eyes still staring at him, watching him.

He'd never felt so scared in his life.

XXX

Bertholdt Hoover crouched slightly to board a small but clean elevator after having followed Brigadier General Hange Zoe and his friend Reiner Braun down six flights of stairs. The doors closed behind him and Hange used a heavy-looking key to access a small keypad. After typing in a short sequence, the elevator lurched into action, and they were descending. Bertholdt could feel his ears popping almost painfully, and the temperature around them grew hotter and hotter the further they went, but it was still nothing compared to his own body heat, which kept him constantly sweating. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he dabbed at his forehead again, taking a deep breath. Hange gave him a knowing side-eye. "Still hot, Hoover?"

"Y-Yes General," he responded hesitantly.

"Your _Titan _has the highest temperature we've ever recorded," she responded thoughtfully, adjusting her glasses. "I'm a bit surprised you made it. I was sure your brain would fry under that heat. What is your body temp now?"

Bertholdt quickly checked the thermometer attached to his arm. "One hundred sixty-five, ma'am," he answered. "W-What do you mean… _Titan?"_

Hange's gaze moved over to Reiner, who looked like he'd been fidgeting with something in his coat pocket. Bertholdt had a faint idea of what it was. He wondered if Reiner would ever be able to deliver that letter, or if he would be stuck with the burden of its contents forever. "Braun," Hange commanded, "you can describe it better than I can. Tell him what you told me."

Reiner seemed to shake himself back to the present and his eyes cleared. "The giant," he said, his gaze on Bertholdt. "The giant you dreamed about. That's your… _Titan. _In my dream, it chased away the Tyrannos I was fighting. It saved me… and I think it… I think it tried to communicate with me."

As Reiner described his dream, Bertholdt felt more and more unsure. That wasn't how his dream went at all. His _Titan_ didn't feel like a part of him; it felt like it was trying to invade him. The way Reiner spoke, it sounded like his _Titan _gave him a sense of power, of purpose - and Bertholdt felt the exact opposite. He felt weak… and lost. He kept all of these thoughts to himself, however, only speaking when being directly spoken to.

By the time the elevator stopped moving, the temperatures were sweltering, and humid. He felt like they'd stepped into an active volcano; a thought Hange verified by saying, "Welcome to the Earth's mantle, gentlemen. We've reached the _underground Coliseum."_

They were shown to their rooms, which were separate now (although Bertholdt was right next door to Reiner); the rooms were small and bare, with only a bed and a writing desk to occupy the limited space. The walls were solid sheet metal. Upon pressing a hand to the wall as a test, Bertholdt found that the metal was very, very warm. "There's a communal shower and restroom space down that hallway," Hange pointed out as they left the 'dormitory' area and moved out into a more open space. In fact, open wasn't really even the word for this: it was more like a massive arena, minus the spectator stands. This was no arena for humans to fight, that was certain. Bertholdt had a feeling he knew exactly what this space was for, and his stomach felt queasy at the thought. He'd assumed they were alone - until he saw a flash in the distance and suddenly, out of nowhere, a giant creature appeared, its fists held high. With shapely hips, round breasts, and a feminine body, it was clear this creature was female - but the other giant that suddenly appeared on the other side was most definitely male. It was smaller in stature and height than the female, but had gleaming jaws that looked incredibly dangerous.

Bertholdt's jaw dropped and he stepped back in fear, his panicked eyes moving over to Hange for instruction. But the Brigadier General simply looked smug, and almost rabid with excitement. "YEAH!" she screamed, pumping a fist in the air. "Kick her ass, Sergeant Galliard! Third time's the charm!"

The _Titan _with the large jaws let out a deafening roar. Hange glanced over at both Reiner and Bertholdt, grinning sadistically. "These are _Titans, _boys," she said confidently.

Bertholdt exchanged glances with Reiner to find that his blond friend was considerably less scared and more excited than he was. In fact, Reiner looked like he had half a mind to join the fight, despite having absolutely no knowledge of how to become his _Titan. _A _**rumble rumble **_rumble signaled the beginning of the fight as the female Titan launched herself at the one with the jaws. Judging by her speed and grace, it was clear the female had full control over her _titan_ body, even with limp blonde hair hanging in her eyes and obscuring her vision; but her precision was counter-balanced by the jaws _Titan's_ speed.

As the female swooped in with a forward jab, she tried to feint to the left and hook an arm around the jaws's thick neck, but he anticipated it and launched himself up and over her, whipping around to attack from behind. She quickly brought her arm up to guard her face as he opened his jaws wide to clamp down on her; he snagged her lifted arm, but when he went to gnaw it off, he couldn't.

Bertholdt couldn't believe his eyes. Her arm was covered with a material as hard as crystal. The jaws of the male titan were making headway as he continued to clench her arm desperately; Bertholdt could see the crystal cracking. She'd need to make a move, and fast.

And she did. The female's free arm reached over to grab the jaws _Titan_ by his wild brown hair, but he raised a hand and clawed viciously at the offending arm. They were in a deadlock now — a deadlock finally broken by the jaws when he broke through the crystal and his powerful maw snapped right through her arm. The rest of the limb thudded to the ground with a loud _**WHAP**_, copious amounts of steam rising from the abandoned flesh and clouding the arena. Bertholdt raised an arm to shield his face from the offending smoke, trying to see past it. Despite himself, his fear and reservations, he was desperate to know who would emerge victorious.

Once the scalding mist faded somewhat, Bertholdt could see that the two _Titans_ were now locked in close combat; the female was desperately trying to get her remaining arm around the jaws neck while he was snapping curiously at her neck.

The struggle continues for a minute or two before the female's arm began to…. _regenerate. _More steam benched from the wound as a skeletal arm grew from the socket. The female didn't waste time; even as the bony fingers were beginning to wrap themselves in muscle and skin, she was grabbing the jaws's hair once more; and with a swift and decisive movement, she matched her other arm over his neck and popped his head right off. It slapped to the ground and rolled a short distance while the female let the rest of his body drop lifelessly to the ground in a steaming, bloody pile.

"Well, _damn," _Hange cursed with a rueful shake of her head. "I really thought Porco was going to win that time. He's got the drive and tenacity, but…"

Bertholdt peered through the dissipating mist to see a figure emerge from the remains of the male _Titan; _as soon as Reiner spotted the figure, he ran out to go help them. That was a typical move for the blond. Bertholdt was too frightened by the spectacle to do anything other than stare. His wide eyes moved to watch the female _Titan_ as she dropped down to her knees, tendrils of steam wafting from her body. Then she fell face-first to the floor.

XXX

Reiner's feet moved before he had time to think. He raced toward the lone figure struggling to emerge from the remains of the jaws _Titan_, swooping in to grab them. Reiner had to pull, hard; tendrils of flesh kept the man connected to the quickly decaying pile of innards. Getting a better look at him, Reiner could see that the man who'd been controlling the jaws was a short and stout guy about his own age, with light-colored hair and a youthful face. The young man - Porco, Reiner had heard Hange call him - was quick to yank himself away, a snarl on his lips. "I can do it myself," he snapped, before wiping some sweat from his face and stepping over a pile of dissolving bones. Reiner stared at him in confusion for a moment, wondering who the hell could be so rude to someone they'd just met - when the loud _**THUD**_ of the female _Titan's_ falling body startled him. He whipped around to find another figure emerging from those remains, obscured by the thick cluster of steam emanating from the _Titan_ body.

Reiner made his way through the sweltering vapor to see if the other person needed assistance; when he got closer he could see a woman with blonde hair prying herself from her vessel. Reiner squinted at her. No. _It couldn't be._

"Annie?" he questioned breathlessly, his eyes widening in shock. It wasn't her, was it?

It _was_ her_. "Annie!" _he exclaimed, launching himself at her. As soon as Reiner's arms wrapped around her, she maneuvered herself to get a grip on him instead and within seconds, he'd been slammed flat on his back. Reiner gasped for air and stared up at her in awe, before his face broke out into a wide grin and he let out a bellowing laugh. "_Annie! _Bert, buddy, it's _Annie!"_

She gazed down at him with the same flat expression she always gave him. "You're as aggravating as ever," she muttered, before extending a hand. As she helped him to his feet, Bertholdt rushed over, his own expression panicked, before he halted in his tracks at the sight of Annie.

He grew stiff and awkward, tension filling his shoulders. His tall, lanky body seemed so much smaller than it really was, with the way he cowered. "A-Annie," he murmured, still sweating. Reiner looked between them, grinning knowingly. He knew Bertholdt wouldn't make a move - so he wrapped an arm around each of them and brought them in together for a group embrace. Bertholdt's arms hesitantly went around them as well, and Annie's gesture was half-hearted, but Reiner was so relieved to see her alive that he didn't even care. When he pulled away, he looked her up and down. "Not only are you alive… you're a badass!"

Annie only rolled her eyes, before she focused her attention on Bertholdt, who seemed to cringe even more under her stare. She seemed to wait for a greeting, while he struggled to make words come out. Bertholdt opened and closed his mouth several times before finally stuttering, "Y-You… I… I-I'm glad you're… alive."

"Me too." Her response was bland. Dull. Same old Annie.

XXX

Reiner and Bertholdt were immediately put into physical training. They ran, they worked out relentlessly, and they were given several lessons on hand to hand combat each day. At first the only people they saw were each other, and a military trainer by the name of Mike Zacharias. Mike was extremely good at what he did; the techniques he showed Reiner and Bertholdt were efficient and simple. Mike was apparently the trainer for all of the _Titan_ shifters; once the blond and brunette duo were acclimated to the training regiment, they'd meet and join the other shifters.

Day 7 was the day. Mike brought them into a small weight room where six other people lounged, all in work-out gear; Reiner recognized Annie, who sat with her knees pulled to her chest, and Porco, who leaned against the wall with an irritable expression. He didn't know the rest of them, or at least he thought he didn't - until one of them spoke. "Woooow, look at Captain America over here," a tanned, freckled woman with a lean body and short brown hair taunted with a smirk. Reiner hadn't recognized her by appearance, but he _knew _that voice. Suddenly his hand fumbled for the letter he'd been holding onto, only for him to realize that he was in work out clothing and he'd left the letter in his jacket pocket.

"_Ymir," _he said, mostly to himself.

Her eyes squinted. "Wait a minute," she muttered suspiciously. "I know that voice. You're the legless, armless wonder from the next room over at Ohio Valley. Am I right or am I right?"

Reiner's brows drew in irritably. "Yeah, that's me," he replied grimly. "Not so legless or armless now, though."

"Guess that serum gave you a hand… literally," she teased with a snarky grin.

"Two hands," Reiner replied, his own lips curling into a smirk as he brought his arms up in a boxing pose, "and I'd love to test them out on you."

Mike stepped in, halting their banter. He wasn't much of a talker, but he commanded all attention in the room. Reiner lowered his fists, waiting for him to speak. Mike gestured to Porco in the corner. "This is Porco Galliard," he grunted. As he moved down the room, he introduced Annie, Ymir, and a man about their age with medium brown hair. "Marcel Galliard," Mike said; Reiner surmised that he and Porco were related after a quick analytical glance at them both. They definitely shared a family resemblance. The next person to be introduced was a young woman with long black hair who leaned on a… crutch? Reiner had to know that story. Apparently her name was Pieck Wagner, and she was one of the older recruits. The _Titan Program_, although only recently having had an increase in funding, had been running much longer than Reiner had thought.

The last man to be introduced seemed even older than Pieck. He had shaggy, light blond hair, a thick beard, and circular glasses, underneath which were intelligent olive-colored eyes. "Zeke Jaeger," Mike said shortly. "He is our first successful _Titan_ shifter, and the only one to have bonded so well with his _Titan_ that he retains the ability to speak even when shifting."

Reiner's brows raised. His _Titan _had never spoken, and he was positive Bertholdt's hadn't either. Annie and Porco hadn't uttered a word during their fight on the first day. This new information changed the group dynamic, at least in Reiner's eyes; if Zeke was the most experienced shifter, he was probably going to be the one to lead the group in future missions. Reiner made it a priority to speak to Zeke, to get to know him better. He made it a priority to get to know all of the people he would be working so closely with.

Once the introductions were made, training began.

XXX

"You fucking suck at this."

Reiner stared up at Ymir, who stood over him with her hands on her hips and an eat-shit grin on her face. "I just got here," he growled. "And I just recently got my damn limbs back."

"Boo-hoo," she sneered, backing off to allow him to get to his feet. "Mister 'I got all my limbs blown off by a bomb' is gonna use that as an excuse now? _Get up."_

Reiner grit his teeth and clambered to his feet. "I really don't like you," he muttered, brushing himself off and putting his fists up once more.

"Feeling's mutual, blondie." Ymir smirked, preparing herself for another match. When Reiner swooped in, she ducked under his swinging fist and brought her own up, attempting an uppercut.

He stepped back to avoid the blow, smacking her arm aside. "Blondie? Alright then, _Freckles."_

Ymir's brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed dangerously. So that nickname wasn't appreciated, he thought in amusement. As they continued to spar, Reiner's thoughts dwelled on the letter that sat in his jacket pocket in his quarters. He'd been back and forth on whether or not to give it to her. He knew he should. He'd promised Krista. But it weighed so heavy on his heart that he found himself never wanting to even think about it.

_**WHAP. **_Because he was distracted, Ymir was able to deliver a smarting blow to the side of his head. His ears rang and he stumbled back for a moment, disoriented. Ymir's lips moved, probably taunting him, but he couldn't hear it. A hand went to his shoulder steering him away from the fight and to a bench where he could sit. Zeke offered him an ice pack, which Reiner gratefully took and pressed to the side of his pulsating head. "Are you alright?" Zeke asked.

When Reiner looked up at him, he found that behind the glasses, the man's olive eyes were analytical. As if he was always making calculations, running scenarios. Reiner only nodded, giving him a thankful glance. "Ymir is a smart-mouth," Zeke commented, "but she's got spirit. That tenacity is why she was chosen."

Reiner watched as Ymir paired up with Porco to practice hand-to-hand combat instead. They seemed to work very well with each other, even if they were a little competitive. "Why was he chosen?" Reiner asked, pointing to Porco. "He seems to have a very… sour attitude."

Zeke's lip twitched in a hint of a smile. "That he does," he answered. "And he's… working on that. Porco has that same tenacity, that same fire. He's not a quitter. And he's fast." Zeke gestured over to Annie, who sat along the wall, taking a break. "Why do you think your friend Annie was chosen?"

Reiner bit his lips, considering. "Because she's level-headed," he finally answered. "She knows how to make the tough decisions, decisions other people wouldn't be strong enough to make. But… Annie's also lazy."

Zeke hummed thoughtfully. "We all have our flaws." He gestured to Bertholdt, who was currently barely holding off a quick and confident Marcel. "Tell me your thoughts on Bertholdt."

"He's my best friend," Reiner answered. "But frankly… I don't really know why he was chosen."

"Well, he does have the best sharp-shooter scores in the country," Zeke replied. "But on top of that, Bertholdt is unbiased. He can look at a situation objectively and make an impartial decision. He is smart."

Reiner pursed his lips, nodding quietly. He'd been thinking so much about Bertholdt's aversion to confrontation and his lack of initiative that he'd forgotten just how perceptive his friend could be. Perhaps he could be useful here. "What about Marcel?" he asked. "He's… related to Porco, right?"

"They are brothers," Zeke answered calmly. "Whereas Porco is rash and moody, yet tenacious and spirited, Marcel is grace, and confidence. He is kind-hearted and outgoing. Good material for leadership."

After taking all of this in, the blond asked the question that had been lingering in his own mind: "Why was I chosen?"

"You're hard-working, you're dedicated, and you put your comrades first. You also make a great leader. Your dedication is something we sorely need for success. If we want to rid the world of the Tyrannos and restore order, we need dedication. We need kindness, spirit, perception, tenacity, impartiality, and level-headedness."

_Wise words, _he thought. Glancing over at Zeke, Reiner raised a brow. "Why were you chosen?"

"Because I am all of those things," Zeke answered with a smile.

XXX

"He can add 'arrogant as fuck' to his list of fine qualities," Porco jabbed over his bowl of stew as all the shifters (minus Zeke) had dinner at a table. Their rations: a bowl of hearty stew, a loaf of bread, and some tea. Tea was alright, but a drink Reiner sorely missed was coffee - which was a bit of a delicacy now. Ever since Africa and South America had been taken, coffee production had all but stopped. There were a few fields in Texas that were able to grow coffee, so it had become a drink only the rich could afford.

They all shared a chuckle, and Ymir, who sat beside Porco, elbowed him playfully. They seemed to get along better than anyone else. Probably because they were both annoying and irreverent.

"You know, now that I think about it, I've never actually _seen_ Zeke train with us," Marcel added through a mouthful of potatoes. "I don't think I've ever seen him in anything other than military drab."

"I bet he's flabby under there," Ymir joked. Her smug brown eyes shifted over to Reiner. "Surprised you didn't get flabby with all that time you spent in your hospital bed, Legless Wonder."

Reiner's jaw clenched. "That's probably because I didn't even _eat _anything, _Freckles."_

"Hah! Freckles!" Marcel busted out in laughter. Even a sharp elbow from Ymir didn't settle him down. "That's a cute nickname."

Reiner looked over at Bertholdt, who sat to his right at the end of the table. The brunette had been quiet the entire time. "You okay, buddy?"

Bertholdt glanced up. When he did, his eyes didn't meet Reiner's; they were looking directly at Annie, who sat quietly on the other end of the table, disinterested in any conversation. Reiner followed his gaze and let out a grunt. "She hasn't spoken a word to us," Bertholdt whispered.

Reiner hunched over his bowl, glancing furtively between his friend and the blonde at the other end. "I'd like to say that the serum changed her, but -"

"It didn't," Bertholdt murmured, poking idly at his soup with his spoon. His eyes reflected his sorrow. "But I at least thought…"

"Maybe - maybe you just need to tell her how you feel."

Panic reflected on the brunette's face and he shook his head quickly. "She'd only turn me down. I know it."

"You don't know anything," Reiner growled defensively. "I'm tired of watching you waste away without saying anything."

"Did you say anything?" Bertholdt's demand was met with a sharp look, and Reiner flinched. "Did you say anything to Krista?"

"I-" Reiner glanced away. "That's different."

"Sure it is." Bertholdt's voice was bitter. It was surprising to hear that coming from the usually timid and soft-spoken man, but considering his feelings toward Annie, Reiner should have expected back-lash. Reiner opened his mouth to speak when their quiet conversation was interrupted.

"So how's it feel to be the tallest member of the group, Beanpole Bert?" Ymir called over to them, grinning wildly. "I wonder how big your _Titan_ is gonna be. Massive, I bet."

"Jealous, Ymir?" Porco retorted. "Yours is tiny."

"Like your dick, right?"

"Bitch. Take that back."

"You couldn't _pay _me to take it back."

"Fine! Whatever you say, _Freckles."_

Their banter caused the group to erupt in laughter, with the exception of Bertholdt and Annie. Annie, as usual, was simply disinterested, but Bertholdt looked increasingly upset. Finally, he scooted his chair back abruptly and left his soup sitting on the table.

Reiner allowed Bertholdt some time alone, although part of him wanted to go and make sure the tall and lanky Sergeant was okay. Instead, he found himself in front of Annie's door, having knocked hesitantly. He wasn't sure what he was doing there, or what he would say if she decided to answer; all he knew was that his feet had started moving and right in front of her door was where he'd landed.

Her door opened, surprisingly. When she lifted her head to peer up at him suspiciously, Reiner found himself lost for words. He cleared his throat awkwardly, shuffled his feet, tried to find what he wanted to say. Finally, he said, "why have you been so cold?"

Annie stared up at him resentfully, then went to shut her door - but Reiner held it open firmly, locking his jaw. His eyes reflected his irritation. "We've been friends our whole _lives, _Annie," he persisted. "You can't just pretend like you don't even know us!"

Her brows furrowed, those blue eyes flashing angrily. She attempted to push on the door again, but he held firm. Finally, she said through her teeth, "I didn't want you two to be here."

Reiner's brows furrowed. "_Why?"_

"Because you could have _died!" _she exploded, her pale face flushed with rage. "When they inject you with that serum, your chances of survival are slim to none." Reiner's surprise brought a cold, cruel smile to her lips. "You think that we are the only ones they've run this trial on? That we shifters are the only ones they injected with that poison? You want to know how many people have died in this program, Reiner?"

Reiner hesitated, suddenly feeling very small. She was no longer pushing on the door, but his grip on it had also gone slack. He didn't answer. He couldn't answer. Frankly, he didn't want to know. But he had to. "Two hundred and three," she finally said. A lump rose in his throat and he fought to swallow it down before he vomited all over her doorway. Before the rise of the Tyrannos, two hundred and three was an insignificant number.

Now, in these times, it was massive. With humanity having been cornered onto one continent like cattle, they were on the brink of extinction, and the government sacrificed _two hundred and _three people for an experimental program. Reiner could still feel that power lurking in the corners of his mind, telling him that it was okay. This was a necessary sacrifice. Straightening his shoulders, he tried to convince himself that was true.

"Don't talk to me if you don't want to," Reiner began, trying to keep his voice steady, "but Bertholdt l- …. Just… don't hurt Bertholdt. He needs us right now."

When he turned away, Annie caught his sleeve. He glanced back at her with raised brows only to find a curious expression on her face. "When you were first injected… did you dream of it?"

"My _Titan?" _Reiner frowned. "Yes."

He briefly described his dream to her, and she stared thoughtfully at the floor. "Mine was… laying down. It was so strange. I approached her, and she just looked at me with these eyes… they looked like mine, but they were… lost. She was so massive, but she just laid there. Like she was dying."

"What did you do…?"

"I left her there."

XXX

Weeks passed. They all trained together under Mike, who taught them both hand-to-hand combat and how to master the government steam gear. It would be vital to future missions, Mike had assured them. Some of the others shifted into their _Titan_ forms for practice in _Titan_ combat. Porco had been right, that night at dinner; Ymir's _Titan_ was _tiny. _But damn, she was fast. Faster than Porco, even. Of all the matches that Bertholdt had spectated, the only person to beat Annie was Ymir.

One thing all of the other shifters had in common, however, was the catalyst; they all inflicted pain on themselves in order to shift, one way or another. Annie used a sharp pin-point on a ring on her finger; Ymir used a knife; Marcel bit down on his arm. Bertholdt wasn't excited about slicing himself open with anything - then again, he really wasn't enthused to shift into his _Titan _form period. The massive giant still haunted his dreams, watching him with those dead evergreen eyes and never giving him a moment's peace.

Sweating was something Bertholdt did constantly now, due to his irregularly high body temperature. He kept a napkin on him at all times, especially for times of stress when the sweating got worse. He was regularly the butt of Ymir's 'sweat' jokes, too.

Today, Bertholdt was sweating so much that he'd soaked through one training shirt and was in the process of putting on another one. Today he'd be sparring with Annie, and the rest of the shifters would be spectating rather than in their own matches. This was a test of sorts, Mike had said, even though they wouldn't be 'graded.' Bertholdt knew he was going to lose and the anxiety over facing Annie down was raising his body temperature so much that it was hard for him to focus. He felt like his brain was frying in his head like bread in an oven.

A hand clapped his shoulder and bertholdt turned away from the changing room sink to see Reiner looking at him seriously. "You're gonna do fine," he assured him.

"Sh-shouldn't you be out there, waiting…?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay first." Reiner retreated after giving his shoulder a squeeze, and Bertholdt was alone again. He wasn't prepared for this. He didn't want this. He couldn't look Annie in the eye anymore. His heart couldn't take it.

After changing into a third shirt (the second had already gotten soaked through), Bertholdt rinsed his flushed face with cold water and headed out into the arena.

Everyone was waiting when he arrived. Mike explained the instructions - no shifting, no crotch-shots, and no biting - and they were left to begin. Bertholdt glanced anxiously at the other shifters who watched them from the sidelines. This arena was big. There was so much space. Too much space. He felt increasingly small and insignificant -

"Are you done panicking yet, Sweats McGee?!" Ymir hooted from the sidelines before being shushed by Mike.

Bertholdt swallowed the bile rising in the back of his throat and tried to focus through the haze his body heat was creating. He put up his fists in a defensive position; years of military training enhanced by Mike's combat tactics had made this position natural to him. But all the training in the world couldn't prepare him for Annie Leonhart. She swooped in past his defenses, wrapped an arm around him, and used his own body weight to slam him to the ground. The breath was knocked right out of him and he gasped for air as his back hit the floor. When Bertholdt's eyes opened, he saw the blonde staring down her nose at him, a scowl on her lips. "That's all you've got?" she questioned quietly.

That was the first thing she'd said to him since he'd gotten here. A taunt, scornfully delivered. Anger rose in his chest and he grit his teeth; but he stopped himself from saying anything back. He was afraid of the consequences. Afraid to let himself go and act on his emotion. So he just clambered to his feet, got back into a defensive stance, and watched her carefully.

This time, Annie came at him very straight-forwardly. He was able to deflect the punch she threw at him, side-stepping and aiming his own kick at her side. "Flimsy," she scolded coldly, blocking it with ease and catching his leg. She threw it up and Bertholdt lost his balance; he was able to recover himself before falling onto his back, stumbling. The match went on that way for a few minutes, with Annie attacking and Bertholdt attempting to deflect it. Finally she was able to get him on his back yet again, and as he stared up at her, panting and sweating, she snarled. "You're not even _trying. _You're a waste of time."

She turned her back on him. A swell of anger clenched his chest painfully and Bertholdt could feel his hands tightening into fists. The rage was white-hot and consuming; all he could think was, _I'm not a waste. I'm not a waste. Not a waste. Look at me._

_I'll __**make**__ you look at me._

He rose to his feet, all muscles tensed and prepared for action. Caution was thrown to the wind. While her back was still turned, he rushed at her; she sensed his approach and was able to turn and lift up arms to protect herself, but he threw the full weight of his body at her and they crashed to the ground with him on top.

The shock on her face as she stared up at him was gratifying. Her delicate lips were parted, ice blue eyes as round as dinner plates; her breathing had turned just as ragged as his own. All of Bertholdt's mixed feelings for Annie coalesced into one giant ball of heat that settled in the pit of his stomach - his gaze drifted to her mouth briefly before he met her eyes again. "Don't ignore me ever again," he said before he could stop himself; realizing what he'd said, his own eyes widened briefly before he hauled himself off of her and stepped back to give her space.

Annie was on her feet a moment later. She was shaky but quickly recovering and composing her face into that infernal expressionless mask. He felt that white-hot knot in his stomach again. He wanted something out of her — _something. Anything. _Bertholdt was compassionate and humble, calm and steady by nature; but seeing Annie's blatant attempt to shut him out… it brought out this animalistic rage he didn't know he possessed. Everything else was blocked out, his tunnel vision directly only at the petite blonde putting up her fists.

The words came up like vomit. "Don't you understand how I feel?!" He found himself shouting, unfaltering as he blocked the punches she threw at him with a steadiness that wasn't there before. He wanted nothing more than to be heard. To _make_ her hear him. "Or are you too lost in your own little world to care?!"

Left, right; duck down, dip backwards. Mike was telling them to stop the match, but Bertholdt didn't hear it. "If someone hurt you, I'd _kill _them," he growled through clenched teeth. Sweat had soaked through his clothing, stray droplets falling on the hard cement below. "If someone aimed a gun at you, I'd jump in front of the bullet—"

_**WHAP. **_Bertholdt's ears rang as he quickly recovered from a blow to the side of his head, his newfound determination keeping him from falling flat on his back. As Annie ducked down to aim an uppercut at his chin, he quickly grabbed her arm, redirected the punch, and grabbed her other arm to twist it behind her back. This pulled her tight against his chest; as she stared up at him with widened eyes, Bertholdt, for the first time in the entirety of their friendship, felt _noticed. _Like she was truly _seeing _him.

His green eyes were burning with an intense fire as he stared down at her, more word vomit coming up. "I would _DIE_ for you!"

He wasn't sure, but he could've sworn tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. Mike shoved them apart before he could really confirm. Bertholdt suddenly became aware of his surroundings; all of the other shifters were staring at them in shock. Reiner's brows were drawn in like he was concerned, but knew this would happen. The silence was deafening.

Bertholdt felt himself shrinking back into his shell. What had he done? What good did getting emotional do? All he had done was make a fool of himself, all but outright confessing his feelings for Annie — in front of everyone. Thankfully Mike dismissed him, irritably muttering something about Bertholdt needing another shirt. No one hated Bertholdt's sweating more than Bertholdt himself; every drop reminded him of the watchful predator lurking in the back of his mind, waiting to devour him.

He quickly left the arena, not looking back.

XXX

Reiner made a note to check up on Bertholdt later, but for now, he was up next. Thankfully his opponent was Marcel, someone Reiner had quickly come to like. What wasn't there to like? Marcel, it seemed, was not only big brother to Porco, but to everyone else too; going out of his way to help the others, give useful pointers, and encourage them. Reiner was a leader himself, but he was much more reserved and grim, only occasionally letting his walls down — but Marcel inspired him. Marcel was the true leader here.

Putting up his fists, using a mixture of his military training and the techniques Mike had taught him, Reiner began his match strong. He had several inches and quite a few pounds on Marcel so physically, he had the advantage; the lumber brunette didn't give him a win easily, though. He wasn't quite as fast as his brother Porco, but there was a fluidity to the way Marcel moved that made him almost… slippery. Difficult to catch. Reiner ended up figuring out the other shifter's pattern and was able to get enough of a hold on him to secure a win.

The grace and confidence with which Marcel accepted defeat was humbling. Although Reiner prevailed in the fight, he felt that he was the one who'd learned a lesson.

Bertholdt didn't show up to dinner that evening; Annie had, however, and Ymir immediately began her jeering when the blonde showed up. No one had talked about Bertholdt's outburst up until now; either because they knew it wasn't proper or they were afraid of Annie.

Ymir had no such fears. "You gonna take lover boy some soup since he didn't show up, Nose?"

Annie didn't look up from her bowl, her face as cold as always. She showed no sign she'd even heard the brunette. Reiner however, was growing increasingly worked up. After the fifth comment, he slammed his hands down on the table, rattling everyone and knocking Pieck's bowl off-kilter. "Would you KNOCK IT OFF?" He roared at Ymir. Reiner knew this wasn't just about the comments being thrown at Annie — it was about the resentment he'd held toward her for claiming Krista's heart. How could Krista love a woman who was so lazy, selfish, and infuriating? What spell did Ymir have over her?

The brunette stared at him in surprise for a brief moment, before her eyes narrowed and her lips curled into a smug grin. "You're not even involved in this," she retorted. "You so up Sweaty's ass that you're getting mad _for_ him now?"

Reiner grit his teeth. He was only feeding her ego by letting her get the best of him. "Bertholdt is my _friend. _And at the rate you're going with your snide comments and jabs, you're not making any." His golden eyes were glinting dangerously, his voice tight. "You're going to end up alone — and on a mission, you're going to get someone killed. Think about that."

Everyone went silent. Reiner removed his hands from the table, apologizing quietly to Pieck and offering his untouched bowl of stew to her. Pieck was quiet, but always helpful and kind, so he genuinely felt bad for knocking over her food. He made a quick run to the nearby kitchens to clean up the mess he made, offering the hunched raven-haired woman napkins for her ruined skirt, and left his own bowl there for her. Then he retreated to the living quarters.

XXX

Bertholdt hadn't really known _who_ to expect when a quiet knock sounded on his door late that night, but it certainly hadn't been _Annie._

When he opened the door and saw her, his face went beet red and he cleared his throat, feeling suddenly claustrophobic. "I-I — Annie —" he began, his words coming out strangled.

The slim blonde had her hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie, her cold blue eyes narrowing as they looked at him. Her lip was curled in — disdain? Annoyance? "That was the first time I've ever been truly caught off-guard in a fight," she muttered. Her words revealed her true emotion: embarrassment. She was embarrassed, and she was coming to him to… what, confront him? Whatever her intentions, he was sure he deserved it. He'd made a fool of himself in the arena.

Bertholdt pursed his lips, unsure of what to say. He didn't know that there was anything he _could_ say. But she spoke up before he had a chance to blurt anything out. "You're a fool, Bertholdt Hoover." And she shoved past him, entering his room and pacing about. He could see the tension in her little body before, but now it was obvious in the way she walked that she was pent up and extremely upset. Bertholdt had only ever seen Annie like this a few times in the entire duration of their lives.

He slowly shut the door behind him, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. "A-Annie, I…" he began. He wanted to comfort her. To hold her. He just wanted her to _let him love her. _"W-Why won't you let me in?" he finally questioned.

She didn't stop her pacing, she didn't look up. Her hands were balled into little fists in the pockets of her hoodie, her brows knit and mouth drawn into a scowl. "Why _should_ I...?" she said, her voice soft as silk but utterly poisonous. "Making yourself vulnerable is pointless. It only leads to pain and suffering. It's useless. Friendships, relationships - they're _useless."_

Her words were a slap in the face. Bertholdt could feel that ball of heat in his stomach, angry and taut, and he moved over to her, grabbing her by the shoulders and stopping her pacing. She had to tilt her head back to look up at him, and when their eyes met, he saw the tears, brimming in the corners of her eyes. His eyes widened just slightly. He could see the fear behind her mask of ice. She wasn't cold, she wasn't heartless… she was scared. Still, he had to make his point. He knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself until he said it.

"You're _wrong!" _His hands clenched her shoulders tighter. He could feel her quaking in his grip. His eyes, brimming with tears of their own, stared down at her unblinkingly. "Damn it, Annie - _let me love you!"_

She froze up in his grasp, a tear streaking down her pale cheek. She didn't move, didn't speak, didn't breathe. Suddenly a shuddering breath released from her and she abruptly moved in, shoving her face in his shirt and grabbing onto his sleeves desperately. Her grip was tight and unrelenting, her body shaking against him. Bertholdt tensed, unsure of what to do; thoughts and feelings whirled around in his head, threatening to swallow him whole. Finally, his arms acted of their own accord and instinctively wrapped around her, drawing the blonde into a secure embrace.

Seconds ticked by; he felt like he'd only had the woman in his arms for a fraction of a second before she harshly pulled away, wiped her eyes, and walked out the door.

Bertholdt stood alone with his arms hanging, feeling more confused than ever.

XXX

That damned letter had been burning a hole in Reiner's pocket for weeks, staring at him every time he entered his room, whispering to him at night, begging to be given to its rightful owner. And after that spat with Ymir earlier, Reiner finally decided to just get rid of it. He wasn't meant to keep that letter from her. He'd yelled at her about disrespect and friendship, and here he was, betraying Krista's trust by not doing as he'd promised.

So he went to Ymir's room late that night and knocked on the door, only to find she wasn't there. He checked the training rooms, the arena, the showers, to no avail; only to find her in the dining area, snacking on bread that she'd no doubt taken without permission. Reiner sat down across from her, and she ignored him, taking a greedy bite of the french loaf. It seemed like she was _always_ eating something, no matter what time of day it was; it reminded him of Sasha Braus, one of the soldiers on his team. Thinking of Braus got Reiner thinking of Privates Jaeger, Ackerman, Kierschtein, Springer, and Bodt. He missed them. All of them.

A sudden realization gave Reiner a chuckle, which turned into an outright laugh. Ymir squinted at him, lips curling into a scowl. "The hell's so funny?" she demanded through a mouthful of wheat.

Amidst his snickers, the blond said, "I was just thinking about my squad. I miss them," he said, still laughing. "I miss my Privates."

Ymir stared at him for a second before bursting into a fit of cackles; they both laughed until their sides ached, and finally, as they were catching their breath, the brunette said, "you got jokes, Beefcake. I'm shocked. Who knew you had a sense of humor beneath that ugly gorilla face?"

Reiner's lips curled into a grin. "You gonna share some of that bread, since you made me spill my dinner earlier?"

"Not a chance in hell," she retorted, returning to her snacking. Ymir leaned back in her chair, feet propped up on the table. "So why are you disturbing my solitude, Blondie?"

Reiner hesitated. He could feel that letter in his pocket, heavy and buzzing urgently as if strapped to a ticking bomb. That was why he was here. No amount of joking would be able to distract him. "I-I…" finally, he simply reached into his pocket, grabbed it carefully, and pulled it out, sliding it across the table. "This… this is for you. I was asked to… erm, give it to you."

Ymir's dark eyes flickered between Reiner and the note he offered to her, not moving from her spot. "We've been here for - what, weeks?" she demanded, voice strained. "Why the fuck did you wait till now?"

Reiner couldn't find an answer. As he struggled for words, she brushed him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Whatever. You've given it to me now, that's what matters." Tossing him the rest of her baguette, she snatched up the envelope and opened it; as soon as he eyes began scanning the pages, her posture straightened, her feet slowly lowered to the floor, and her grip on on the pages tightened to the point of nearly ripping them.

Reiner couldn't even eat the bread she'd given him, despite the rumbles of his empty stomach; he couldn't seem to look away from her myriad of expressions as she read the contents of the letter. Why he had to watch, he wasn't sure himself. To see where Ymir stood with Krista? To gauge how she felt? It wasn't even his business, so why did he care? Minutes ticked by but it felt like hours. Ymir had read through the letter three times before she finally tore her gaze away from the pages. Reiner could've sworn he'd seen tears in the corners of her eyes, but she managed to blink them away as she pushed back her chair and stood up. She was still clutching the letter like her life depended on it, and was obviously avoiding looking at the blond who sat stiffly across the table.

"Thanks," she muttered, and left without looking back.


	7. Chapter Six: Same Disease

_**Impetum Terrae: Attack on Earth**_

**Characters: **Reiner Braun (Captain, Marines)

Historia Reiss (military nurse, president's daughter)

Bertholdt Hoover (Master Gunnery Sergeant, Marines)

Annie Leonhart (Special Agent, Secret Service)

Ymir Wikstrom (Private First Class, Marines)

Eren Jaeger (Private First Class, Marines)

Mikasa Ackerman (Sergeant, Marines)

Armin Arlert (Logistics, Private First Class, Marines)

Sasha Braus (Private First Class, Marines)

Connie Springer (Private First Class, Marines)

Jean Kirschtein (Private First Class, Marines)

Marco Bodt (Private First Class, Marines)

Levi Ackerman (Colonel, Marines)

Hange Zoe (Brigadier General, Marines)

Erwin Smith (General, Marines)

Dot Pixis (Admiral, Coast Guard)

Nile Dok (Director, Secret Service)

Darius Zackly (Vice President)

Rod Reiss (President)

*Other characters will be mentioned in the story.

_**Chapter Six: Same Disease**_

"KIERSCHTEIN! Get your thumb out of your ass and fix that gear! We're not paying you to fuck things up!"

"You're not really paying me at all," Eren Jaeger heard Jean Kierschtein mutter angrily from beside him. Sergeant Shaddis was yelling again. He was always yelling. Still, the soldiers all scurried to work a little faster; despite Shaddis's loud baritone being a constant grating presence in their ears, they knew he meant business. Eren hated being here; he wished he was back under Captain Braun's command, and the whole squad was back together. Even an assignment on the borders or overseas would be better than this.

This being the re-training protocol. All Marine Corps Privates were being re-trained in… well, everything; all in preparation to face a new sinister threat.

Ever since the incident in Marrakech, the government had been in ripples over the news of a new breed of Tyrannos. A humanoid one with intelligence. The others had whispered about how terrifying it had been when it showed up, and some of them had even invented y'all tales about how they faced off with it, one on one, or about god it was as big as a house with giant claws and razor sharp teeth. Eren personally knew it was all crap, despite not having looked at the beast himself; he had been there when it all went sour, but he'd been too focused on tearing apart every single mutt on that goddamn building to even look. What did Mikasa call it, when he got like that?

Right. Tunnel vision.

Eren thought of it more like… blood vision. Because that was all he could see when he was in the zone; filthy Tyrannos blood. Just the thought of taking down those fuckers got Eren's blood boiling again and his grip on the wires he was holding tightened. Suddenly the wires sparked because of his ill concentration and ended up catching his steam gear contraption on fire, alerting everyone around him.

"JAEGER!"

Eren sighed and trotted across the room to retrieve a fire extinguisher, putting out the fire and also effectively ruining his equipment. A dark shadow cast itself over the work desk he shared with Jean; Eren looked up dully to meet the harsh golden eyes of Sergeant Shaddis. "Deep in thought there, Jaeger?" He questioned, voice overly casual; but all the soldiers in the room knew that was just a precursor for shit hitting the fan.

But frankly, Eren didn't care. He was tired; tired of being forced to do tedious bullshit when he could be out there killing Tyrannos. He only fixed Shaddis with a resentful stare, fighting the urge to fling it at the bald bastard. "Yes."

"Yes what, Jaeger?"

"Yes sir."

"What could have made you so angry that you felt the need to fuck up perfectly useable steam gear, Private?!"

Eren felt like he was about to burst. He had a white-knuckled grip on the fire extinguisher as he stayed quiet. " Nothing, sir."

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU, JAEGER," Shaddis spit at him.

"I'M TIRED OF BEING HERE WHEN I SHOULD BE OUT THERE KILLING TYRANNOS, SIR!" Eren finally screamed back. The other soldiers stared at him, but didn't seem all that surprised; Eren was prone to angry, emotional outbursts fairly often. But never before had he yelled at the drill instructor that way. But Eren continued, seemingly unable to stop himself. "I have to KILL them… kill them ALL! ALL of the Tyrannos!"

Shaddis stared at Eren silently for a moment, hands clasped together behind his back. "Why did you join the Marines, Jaeger?" he finally asked quietly.

"To kill every last Tyrannos," Eren responded earnestly, before hastily adding, "sir. All of them."

Shaddis seemed to analyze the young brunette a moment longer before finally turning away. "Fix your gear, Jaeger, before I get back," he commanded, heading for the workshop's door.

Eren gaped, eyes moving between Shaddis at the smoking, foam-covered contraption on the table in front of him. "But sir —"

"I SAID FIX IT!" Shaddis yelled, back at it again. His fixed all the Privates with bulging eyes. "NO ONE leaves this room until your gear works so well it could make an ELEPHANT fly!"

Then he exited, slamming the door behind him.

Jean glanced over at Eren, flabbergasted. "Jesus Christ, dude," he finally said, voicing what everyone else was thinking. "You're so getting bathroom duty this week."

XXX

Levi Ackerman stared at his reflection in his tea. After finding a small smudge on the inside of the cup, he motioned for the server to come around, quietly demanding a new cup; any contamination was severely off-putting. He wouldn't be coming here again.

But the person who sat across from him seemed completely unperturbed by his obsessive cleanliness; in fact, she was smiling pleasantly at him, sipping from her own cup of tea. "It's been a while since we were able to go out like this," Corporal Petra Ral said cheerfully. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever. Good to know you haven't changed a bit."

Levi only gave her a stiff glance before taking a napkin from the dispenser and wiping furiously at a spot on the table. He didn't often go out to any restaurants, preferring to make his own meals at home. He made do with the occasional outing, of course, but nothing was better than being able to trust the cleanliness of his own table, his own dishes, his own hands. "Things have been busy lately," he replied shortly.

"So I've heard." Petra's warm eyes watched Levi; her smile never wavered. "The Titan Program is finally taking off, huh? Word gets around."

"Considering the new information we received from that failed mission to Marrakech, yes," Levi responded gruffly. "Entire military's getting a reform. Soldiers are being put through extra training and even some of the higher-ups are being sent off to the front lines."

"I heard about that," Petra agreed thoughtfully. "I'm being shipped off to California pretty soon for border patrol and research. Apparently the General's paranoid that another humanoid Tyrannos will just… wash up on shore. It's laughable. But, better to be safe than sorry, I guess." Petra gave Levi a curious look, pursing her lips. "How many Titans have successfully bonded so far?"

Levi's lips curled into a hint of a dry, humorless smile. "That's supposed to be classified information." Sitting up in his seat, he eyed the waitress suspiciously as she brought a fresh cup of tea to him. After inspecting the cup thoroughly, he briefly nodded at her and she hurried away. Lifting his drink to his lips, Levi sampled it; it was bitter and tasteless, but it was better than tap water. The curious look on Petra's face brought a sigh from him and something within him gave in. "Eight. I had a meeting with General Smith and Sergeant Shaddis a few days ago… Shaddis recommended Eren Jaeger for the program."

"Eren Jaeger?" Lifted brows expressed the woman's worry. "He's just a kid…"

Levi's expression hardened, his eyes flinty steel. "I've heard talk of that kid in action; Jaeger's not the most level-headed Private, but he has a tenacity that few have ever seen. He lives for killing Tyrannos. He could be one of our greatest assets if he's trained properly." His voice lowered grimly. "Besides… Desperate times call for desperate measures."

Her brows furrowed. "You can't really mean that, Levi."

He sighed, his gaze softening. "I have to." Leaning back in his chair tiredly, Levi met Petra's eyes and he spoke candidly, quietly. "We're soldiers, Petra. We do what we have to do. What others aren't strong enough to do."

He found determination and resoluteness shining in her honey-colored eyes, but also heartache. His whole life, Levi had trained himself to harden his heart, to shut himself away from others, but he still felt that tug toward Petra. She brought out the compassion in him that he tried so hard to cover up. "You're right," she whispered. "But I still don't like it."

He did not smile, did not offer a comforting hand, but empathy swam in his gray hues as he stared at her. "I don't either."

XXX

Ymir Wikstrom rubbed her eyes, wishing to god she had some coffee — or really any source of caffeine. One would think that being forced to get up at 0600 sharp every fucking morning for 5 years straight would reset her internal alarm, but no. It was still a struggle. Every… fucking… morning.

And it didn't help matters that she'd spent the entirety of the previous night reading that damned letter over and over again. How many times had her eyes scanned that page? 100? 200? Enough to push her past the point of exhaustion. She fell into a restless sleep with the already-worn pages clutched to her chest. Her dreams were filled with Historia; glimpses of her pretty golden hair, a few whiffs of her flowery scent. And at the end of every scene, Historia left. Sometimes alone, sometimes hand-in-hand with that big blond brute. Ymir had awoken in a sweat and fallen back asleep; and now, a mere hour after that, it was time for her to report for morning work-outs.

"Fuck off," Ymir grumbled immediately as Marcel Galliard fell into step beside her. He merely smiled sideways at her, not saying anything; it didn't seem like anything could sour his mood. It pissed Ymir off.

"You look like you haven't slept," Marcel finally said as they entered the locker rooms. They were early; no one else had gotten there quite yet. Marcel was always early, but for Ymir, this was a first. She was usually last to get ready.

Ymir's gaze was vicious as she pushed past him. "No talking."

Marcel shrugged innocently and gave her a knowing look, before going to his own locker and pulling out some wrappings for his hands. Ymir's mood was so sour that she slammed her locker door open, leaving a dent in the locker next to it. "Fucking blond idiot," she growled as she began wrapping up her ankles and pulling on protective elbow and knee pads. "Big sack of limp dicks."

"Reiner?" Marcel's voice came from the other side of the lockers. "He's a little too serious, but he's a good guy. What's your deal?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, you shrimp?" Ymir spat. "Mind your own goddamn business."

"Yeesh," Marcel chuckled. Ymir was both thankful and exasperated when others began to file in, all with bed-heads and sleepy eyes; all except for Reiner, who looked as alert as ever. She wanted nothing more than to go curb-stomp him, but that would have to wait for the training room, where she wouldn't get in trouble for beating the shit out of him.

Once they all filed into one of the equipment rooms for warm-up stretches, Ymir found it extremely difficult to get herself loosened up. Every muscle in her body was knotted with tension and for the life of her she couldn't quite figure out why; all she knew was that it involved Reiner. That letter from Historia was sweet and heartfelt, just like its writer, and it should've brought the freckled brunette a source of comfort, but it only made her tense, angry and uneasy.

And it showed in their sparring matches. Mike seemed to sense the tension between them all, and could tell it was stemming from Reiner and herself, so the trainer of course paired her up with anyone but the big blond idiot. After sparring, Mike gathered them all around to remind them that tension between them all was unacceptable and they would be mindful to work together, not against each other.

But Ymir didn't give a flying fuck. She didn't care about the military, the Tyrannos, or even humanity. The only reason she'd joined the military was because she was starving and had nowhere else to go; she'd been a street rat that stole to keep from dying. And the only reason she'd joined the Titan Program… well, she didn't have a choice, did she? None of them did. She guessed Reiner was the only one of the bunch stupid enough to actually volunteer for this shit. No, Ymir didn't care about any of these people or even about saving the planet. Ymir cared about two things; herself, and Historia.

After sparring, the group had a lecture on military tactics, mission etiquette, Tyrannos anatomy, and Titan abilities. During that time Ymir remembered Reiner and Bertholdt being asked to recount their time in Marrakech and the humanoid Tyrannos they'd encountered, and the both of them were unbelievably flustered, fumbling over their words and stuttering as if they'd made the whole damn thing up. How could Historia like such a bumbling idiot of a man?

Woah, was that what this was about? Was that why the brunette was so angry?

She shook the thought off. No, Ymir didn't care. She didn't. She couldn't. It would drive her crazy if she did.

At lunch, Ymir was unusually quiet and unfortunately others noticed. "Finally some fucking peace and quiet," Porco groaned over his bowl of chow.

"Untrue," Marcel countered playfully. " You're here."

"Fuck off," Porco growled. He turned narrowed blue eyes on Ymir. "What's your deal today? Finally decided living on this miserable planet isn't worth it? Planning on ending it all tonight?"

Reiner sat at the opposite end of the table, stirring his chow restlessly but saying nothing. He'd said nothing the entire time, and people weren't picking on him! God, she just wanted to pour acid on his face. Maybe lop off his arms and legs and leave him a hospital-ridden talking torso again. "Why don't you ask him?" Ymir said sourly, jabbing her spoon in the blond's direction.

The group collectively looked at Reiner. The only one who didn't seem surprised was Bertholdt, who just sat there looking mortified and soaking his blue shirt with more sweat. Of course the ogre would tell him; they were best friends.

Marcel opened his mouth to speak but Reiner cut him off. "I'm not saying a damn thing, so don't even ask."

It was obvious the group was still curious, but no one said anything further on it. Reiner did finally meet Ymir's eyes and gave her a sober look that made her want to rip his teeth out. Marcel changed the subject though, leaning in and lowering his voice. "I hear they're testing out another batch of serum. We may be getting another recruit soon."

" If any of them survive…" Bertholdt added softly.

"Bullshit," Porco countered sourly. "There's enough of us as is. Too many Titans and we'll lose our efficiency. They tested that shit on — what — 200 people? And only we made it."

"I'm serious," Marcel insisted. "I overheard Zeke and Mike talking. I heard one of them was just a Private in the Corps!"

Ymir glanced over at Pieck. "Glasses seems to love you for some unfathomable reason. What did he say?"

Pieck only pursed her lips. The group had their answer in her silence. When Reiner spoke up, a cursory glance at him told Ymir that he was highly upset with this news. "The Private," he murmured. "What's the name?"

"I thought I heard… Yay-grr?" Marcel drew out the syllables, squinting.

Ymir could see the change in Reiner's expression. He was disturbed. Quietly excusing himself, he left the table. Ymir's instinct was to go after him, have the confrontation about that letter that she desperately needed, but even she knew that now wasn't the time.

Shortly after, the group returned to normal and chatted about the usual but were interrupted by the presence of Zeke, who merely waited for them to notice with his hands folded primly. "Titan form training tomorrow," he told them politely. "We'll be breaking in our new members."

Ymir glanced down to the other end of the table where Bertholdt, once again, looked like he was about to shit his pants. How could so much fear and trepidation reside in one single person?

When Zeke left, Bertholdt excused himself from the table, taking his and Reiner's bowls away. Ymir's eyes moved over to Annie, who poked at her food numbly like usual. Annie was very good at hiding her expression, but Ymir wasn't stupid; something had happened between her and Bertholdt. "So, Nose; you and lover boy made up yet?" she asked, smirking.

Annie didn't respond, didn't even look up. Marcel piped up with a grin. "Yeah, you two seem less tense — or — more tense," he amended thoughtfully. "I'm not sure."

"'s gonna ruin our teamwork it they can't get their shit together," Porco growled. "I mean, is it just me or does everyone at this fucking table have issues with each other?"

Marcel's brows drew in. He sounded so earnest Ymir almost wanted to believe him. "Yeah, brother, but at the end of the day, we all have each other's backs."

XXX

The Trench.

A godless, lawless place where death ran rampant and chaos ruled. Located at the south end of San Vito, Costa Rica, on the border of Panama, The Trench was hell on earth. Only one rule existed there: kill or be killed.

Eren Jaeger was right in the middle of it, and he'd never felt more alive. Up until recently he'd only heard stories of the Trench; about 10 years after the initial Tyrannos emergence, they'd begun their invasion of South America, whose military wasn't quite as prepared ir diverse as the States', who at that time had become a melting pot of many other countries. Many refugees, namely military and government officials, fled to the States while their citizens were left to be devoured, and the new world government quickly developed a plan to build the Trench. Now it was an unfinished, abandoned project to split North and South America at its thinnest, most fragile point with the goal of keeping the Tyrannos at bay. It was eventually deemed a waste of time due to the lack of resources and a solid plan to take the rest of South America back, but it did continue to serve as a military outpost to keep Tyrannos out and instead a wall was built to aid that effort. Now soldiers were posted here during the dry seasons to fight off the hordes that dared cross the border. It was quite possibly the most dangerous, blood-stained place in the known world — more soldiers' lives had been lost here than the rest of the country put together.

And it was perhaps Eren Jaeger's favorite place in the entire world. Endless Tyrannos and unlimited ammo made serving in the Trench almost as fun as the yearly Washington festival. None of the rest of his team agreed, of course; they all looked like death, with cold emotionless eyes, shaking hands that refused to let go of their firearms even when not being attacked, and dirty uniforms that stank of rot. Jean complained even more than usual, if that was even possible.

Eren was the only one of the group whose eyes were shining with determination, his body moving with purpose and victory on the horizon. The only one who hadn't already given up. "TAKE THAT, MOTHERFUCKER!" he screamed, green eyes bulging with rage as he whacked at a mutt with the butt of his M27 before spraying it with bullets.

"Eren, be careful!" Mikasa Ackerman yelled, swooping in on her steam gear and taking out a Tyrannos that was about to latch onto the brunette's back.

Annoyance filtered Eren's expression rather than relief. "I don't need your fucking help!" he growled, before taking off over a hill to pursue a mutt that was in hasty retreat. This was it; what Eren Jaeger was born to do.

To save the world.

A patch of rain had the soldiers relatively at ease for the first time in several days. Eren's trigger finger was itching from the moment the rain started; currently they were drumming on a tabletop in the small mess hall of Trench Outpost while Eren irritably listened to Jean complain some more. The others seemed to sympathize, even adding in with some of their own grievances, but Eren was just annoyed. Their purpose, as soldiers, was to kill the Tyrannos, eventually rid the world of them, and keep mankind safe. To take back the rest of the world so humanity wouldn't have to cram themselves in the United States like sardines anymore. "Complaining isn't going to help anything, and it makes you look like a jackass," he muttered at Jean.

The taller soldier's amber eyes narrowed on Eren and he smacked a hand down on the table. "Says the one who's constantly yelling and screaming all the time!"

"I've got a lot to scream about! This world's gone to SHIT!" Eren's voice rose, hands slamming down on the table as he rose from his seat. Their fighting was inevitable; it always happened when they were in the same room for more than a few minutes.

The rest of the crew had learned to deal with it, but today they were all so short-tempered that it didn't seem like they were going to tolerate another shouting match. "Guys, this isn't going to help anything! You're just going to get us all in trouble," Connie protested as Jean stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back.

"Do you think their yelling will distract the Sergeant enough that I could sneak in the kitchen for some extra salami?" Sasha wondered aloud, wiping some drool from her lip.

"This is no time to be thinking about food!" Connie argued, and suddenly all four of the Privates were at odds with each other over the mess hall table. They were only broken up by the presence of a higher-up, who split them off on separate jobs. Connie was to go clean some rifles, Eren was to join some others outside on border patrol, Jean had to go do some laundry, and Sasha had dish duty.

"You got in trouble again, didn't you?" Armin Arlert said as Eren approached the large, half-built concrete wall that flanked the borders of Costa Rica and Panama. He was joining the rest of the patrol group, rain soaking his hair and clothes as he gripped his rifle dutifully in both hands.

"How do you figure?" Eren muttered, falling into step with them and keeping his jade eyes peeled for any threat.

"Bruises on your face," Armin replied softly. "You've gotta stop putting yourself in harm's way like that… it's not going to help anything. You've gotta play it smart, Eren."

Green eyes shifted to glance irritably at his closest friend. "You think I don't know that?" he griped. "Jean just gets me so riled up."

"So control yourself," Armin countered, earning another annoyed look. As they reached one end of the wall, the pair approached a small post; at the post stood a woman with a rigid spine, a harsh grip on her rifle, and steely gray eyes that diligently watched the horizon. Her gaze only moved when Armin and Eren got closer and she realized who had come to take her place.

Gray eyes settled on Eren and her expression softened considerably. "Eren," she said, her voice quivering with worry. "What happened to your face?"

"He got in trouble again," Armin sighed.

Mikasa Ackerman's brows furrowed and a hand left her gun to tenderly touch Eren's cheek, fingers brushing over the bruises. Eren shrugged her off, still annoyed. "Would the both of you quit trying to baby me?" he snapped.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something, Eren," Armin said, voice carrying a solemn tone that made Eren's brows raise in surprise. "I just wanted to wait until we were away from any prying eyes or listening ears."

"Is Eren in trouble?" Mikasa asked, voice hardening. There was a predatory look in her eyes that would've made a stranger quake in fear.

"Well — I'm not sure," Armin responded, voice thick with worry. "It's just something I overheard. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but, well, a lot of the higher ups have pretty loose lips when they've been drinking."

"Well? What is it?" Mikasa growled impatiently.

Armin took a deep breath, blue eyes wavering as if he was attempting to steel himself for a blow to the stomach. "I think Eren has been chosen for the Titan Program."

XXX

[ 2 weeks earlier. ]

"Two black coffees, Julia, and make mine strong enough to kick my ass," Brigadier General Hange Zoe said as she filed into a meeting room ten minutes early. Another rainy day at the military fort near the border of Louisiana and Texas; formerly named Fort Polk, it was now Base Germany. Many refugee citizens from other countries had taken to renaming them after their own countries as representation of the diversity in America and a reminder of their heritage. Many Germans lived in this part of Louisiana; if Hange remembered correctly, both Reiner Braun and Annie Leonhardt hailed from here.

Julie had darted off to retrieve the coffee; ever since South America had fallen, coffee had become a precious commodity and Hange was eternally grateful she was one of the few who could occasionally partake.

Young Armin Arlert, still just a Private First Class but with a mind so bright he was taken into Logistics as well, entered the meeting room, looking nervous. Hange gave him a wolfish grin. "Don't tell me you're nervous to present your findings, Arlert," she teased. "You look like you might piss yourself!"

Armin only gave a nervous laugh and began arranging and rearranging his folders as if simply trying to keep himself looking busy. Presenting in front of General Smith seemed like a big deal but the tall blond only looked intimidating. Erwin Smith was a man who took his job seriously but was not unapproachable. Anyone in the military should have known that Colonel Levi Ackerman, short as he was, was the true tempered one. Thankfully the vicious brunette wouldn't be there today; otherwise Armin would actually piss himself.

Right on time, the General entered the conference room accompanied by two soldiers; both Armin and Hange straightened up immediately into a salute until put at ease. "I've been told your research has unearthed a few things, Private," Erwin said, blue eyes unwavering as he took a seat at the table. Julia, Hange's assistant, quietly came in the room and set two coffees on the table before making her way out. Armin clearer his thrust, clutching some papers anxiously.

"I-I'll just get right into it, sir," the blond began hesitantly. "After finally finding a way to preserve Tyrannos remains, we've taken samples of hundreds of Tyrannos of the Mutt variety and compared them — when it comes to diversity of the genes, they are just like us. Considering they all look very much alike, you can see this was a surprising find; they are not clones, and I believe it's safe to assume they don't all originate from the very same place. Although it's been speculated that the first Tyrannos came out of the Changbaishan volcano in Northeast China, I don't believe that to be the case."

Armin paused to sift through the papers in his hands, eventually setting one on the table for Erwin to examine. "That, sir, is a strand of Tyrannos Mutt DNA; next to it is a strand of human DNA."

Erwin's thick brows furrowed as blue eyes scanned the paper thoroughly. "And the parts highlighted in red?" he asked seriously.

"That is where the DNA overlaps," Armin answered. "And in some places… the genetic code is exactly the same. In other words, sir… Mutts have bits of human DNA in them. It looks as though the genetic code has been mutated, by what I don't know, but there is no doubt human DNA at its core. One thing that disturbed me was that I found the same phenomenon in all of the samples we tested."

Erwin's blue eyes flickered up to meet Armin's gaze and he slowly set the paper down. "So you're saying that all Tyrannos have human DNA in them."

Armin nodded hesitantly, before pushing forward. "But I can't prove my theories without further testing. The research division really needs samples of the humanoid Tyrannos that was sighted in Marrakech; all in all, we need more information. Which is why I am also advocating for the Titan Program."

Erwin stared down at his coffee cup, which was still three-quarters full. His voice was low; quiet. "Your findings are… troubling. One of the biggest problems humanity faces is not knowing our enemy. Without knowing our enemy, we cannot make a plan to defeat them." Two hands laid flat on the table as Erwin let out a breath. "Do you have any further suggestions, Private Arlert?"

Armin swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. It was clear his next words pained him, but he got them out. "I-I have a list of military members I believe would be essential to the program."

Erwin took the next sheet Armin offered and scanned down the list. "At the very top is just a Private First Class," he said, eyes flickering from the page to the blond's nervous face. "What makes you think someone so young and inexperienced is good for this program?"

"I've never seen someone with such a desire to rid the world of Tyrannos," Armin replied, trying to steady his voice. "He's inexperienced but more than makes up for it with tenacity and drive. I truly believe his sheer will has kept him alive in many situations where others have failed… sir."

Erwin considered the statements for a long moment, before turning his gaze on Hange. "Can you corroborate?"

Hange adjusted her glasses thoughtfully, glancing down at the paper Erwin held. "I haven't spent an extended amount of time with him, but I've heard rumors about him spread amongst others. They have all said what Armin is telling you."

Erwin nodded grimly. "Then get a background check on Private First Class Eren Jaeger."

XXX

Sweat dripped down Reiner Braun's forehead and he felt as if every inch of his body was wound as tightly as possible and on the verge of bursting. It felt like his life was falling apart. Eren, one of his own, was going to be put into this program and possibly die from the serum injection, Ymir was at his throat because of that letter and he couldn't even blame her for it, Bertholdt and Annie's tension was affecting the entire group, and he couldn't get those numbers out of his head… the numbers Annie had given him that night he'd gone to her room.

Two hundred and three. Two hundred and three. Two hundred and three.

When he thought about it too long, he realized that it was probably much more than that, now. When he and Bertholdt had first arrived, there had been other people, both military and civilian, standing in that line-up with them… and he and Bertholdt were the only ones who'd come out of their chairs. And who knows how many people they've tested the serum on since then… Perhaps there were already three hundred on the kill-count list.

And Eren may soon be one of them.

He couldn't handle the knowledge of one of his own soldiers, someone he felt personally responsible for, joining their ranks as a Titan. Getting some unknown serum injected into his body. Going through the pain and suffering Reiner had gone through.

How had he been so stupid as to support this insanity?

But he was too much involved now and there was no backing out. Reiner knew for a fact that the only way out of the program now was death. But he'd been a soldier for a long time and that loyalty was still seeded deep within his brain; defying his superiors was something he simply couldn't do. If the government wanted Eren to be a part of the Titan program, there was nothing Reiner could do about it.

But it still hurt.

"You're gonna wear yourself out before your Titan match," a voice said from the doorway.

Reiner lowered his fists, the punching bag in front of him still swinging aimlessly, and he looked to the training room entrance to see Porco standing there with arms folded over his chest. The younger Galliard brother's blue eyes narrowed on him and everything about his posture screamed impatience. Reiner used the back of his arm to wipe sweat from his face and caught his breath, staring.

"Match is gonna start soon, Mike asked me to gather folks," Porco continued sourly.

"Erm, thanks," Reiner responded uncomfortably. "You got any tips for me…? I could always learn something new. You've got the experience here."

"Yeah, you can figure it out for yourself," Porco snapped, leaning off the doorway and leaving. As he retreated, he called back, "Coliseum, ten minutes!"

Reiner took a towel from the locker rooms to wipe the sweat off and headed through the maze of rooms and hallways to get to the coliseum, which was at the center of the underground complex. Most of the others were already gathered; Mike wasted no time in explaining what was going to happen. Reiner cast a glance at Bertholdt when receiving the instruction to face off with each other; the tall brunette looked like he might lay an egg, but knew better than to argue. Reiner ok the other hand could feel himself flood with excitement; he'd been waiting for this. To feel the power his Titan promised. To become one with this mysterious, powerful being; to use this gift he'd been granted to save humanity. All earlier doubts, worries, and questions retreated to the back of his mind and he readied himself for the oncoming fight. The transformation that would make him nearly invincible.

Ymir entered their coliseum from behind the group, with two other folks in tow: Brigadier General Hange Zoe and Director Nile Dok of the Secret Service. Reiner had never seen him around but he assumed the Director simply wanted to see what the fuss was all about; after all, all of the branches of the military had donated both funds and personnel to the Titan Program. Annie was living proof of his investment. Too bad he wouldn't be able to see her in action today.

"Pain," Mike said firmly, holding a sharp, gleaming knife in one hand. He stood in between Bertholdt and Reiner in the middle of the arena while the rest of the group stood on the sideline. " Pain is the catalyst. To activate the serum, you must injure yourself." Then he offered the knife.

Reiner grabbed it without hesitation; he remembered overhearing some of the others talking about it. A simple slice to the hand would do the trick, wouldn't it? A quick glance back at the observing group told him that at least Hange seemed to be excited about the match. She was barely able to contain herself, dark eyes gleaming hungrily while a huge grin spread across her face. Reiner's gaze turned back to Bertholdt, whose shirt was soaked through with sweat. A small smirk curled the blond's lips as he stared at his nervous friend. "It's just a sparring match, buddy," he assured him — although Reiner knew deep in his chest that he wouldn't be holding back. Not at all, not for a second.

Upon receiving a small nod from the man across from him, Reiner looked down at the empty palm he opened and put the blade of the knife to the skin. One sharp scratch — and he was barely able to toss the knife to Bertholdt before pain erupted throughout his whole body; burning pain that seemed to split him to the bone. Hazy eyes barely registered sparks and electricity zipping around his body as it ripped itself apart from the inside out; and finally the pain was too great and his eyes finally closed.

Reiner wasn't sure if it was moments, minutes, or even hours later, but he was eventually able to open his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that the bone-splitting pain was gone, replaced with a feeling of ultimate power. Like a tank could fire at him and he wouldn't even feel it. Like he could catch a nuclear bomb in his hands and send it right back where it came from. Where did such a power come from?

When Reiner looked down, he found he was about fifty feet high. Two large hands lifted and he noticed plates of something that looked like bone, or perhaps crystal, on the backs of his hands and on his knuckles; it looked pretty similar to the ability Annie had used in her fight with Porco, but a quick body check told Reiner that he had it everywhere, permanently.

Like armor.

Reiner was so overwhelmed by this newfound power that he could do nothing but tip his head back and scream.

XXX

Hange Zoe was impressed with the composure Reiner kept during his very first transformation. He howled in pain and dropped to his knees, but compared to some of the others, who'd cried and screamed and tried to crawl away and even stab themselves in an attempt to end it, Reiner's transformation went very well. There was something about the look on his face that told Hange he'd perhaps been looking forward to this.

The serum worked in different ways, considering it contained different DNA, so she had no idea what to expect of the blond's Titan form, but by god he was beautiful. The roar that came from him was so loud and powerful that it was painful to the group of onlookers, but Hange was practically frothing at the mouth in excitement regardless. Unable to tear her eyes away from Reiner's Titan as he seemed to take stock of his new power, Hange simply leaned over to Director Dok and said the first thing that came to her mind: "That, sir, is the Armored Titan."

"Impressive," Nile responded quietly, eyes scanning the scene with an analytical gaze. They narrowed slightly. "Why is the other one hesitating?"

Hange's eyes moved over to Master Gunnery Sergeant Bertholdt Hoover, who stared at the knife in his hand, shaking and on the verge of tears. "I believe MG Sergeant Hoover there had some trouble bonding with his Titan," she responded, but made no move to intervene. She wanted to see what the brunette would do.

It wasn't Bertholdt who acted first; it was Reiner. The fifty-foot tall creature slowly knelt down — a bit clumsily, as if still trying to adjust to the new body — and extended a hand toward Bertholdt, who looked increasingly afraid but remained still; he was trained to stand his ground in the face of danger, and that training held firm, Hange noted proudly. In fact, the closer she looked, it didn't seem that Bertholdt was afraid of Reiner so much as he was afraid of… himself.

Reiner outstretched a single finger towards his opponent; that finger set down on the knife Bertholdt held and slowly pushed it down onto his hand, as if encouraging him to take the plunge. Bertholdt seemed to absorb some of his friend's bravery because he sliced into his hand and dropped the knife.

In the next moment, chaos erupted.

No one could have expected this. Bertholdt began to transform — and he grew. And grew. And grew. He grew until he dwarfed Reiner's Titan and stretched toward the high ceiling —

— and then his head crashed through it. The rumble of Bertholdt's transformation shook the entire coliseum and all the onlookers struggled to find their footing, panic setting in. "How high is the ceiling?!" Nile demanded as Hange stumbled into him, gripping onto his sleeve for dear life.

"Almost two hundred feet," she responded, both awe and horror in her voice.

"What the hell is that thing?!"

" The Colossal Titan," was Hange's hushed reply.

"You come up with these on the spot?"

"Pretty much."

"They're quite good."

"Thank you—" Hange let go of the Director to rush forward, toward the Titans; Reiner stepped back, unsure of what to do, while Bertholdt seemed to be in a panic. His Titan began to struggle, head making an even bigger hole in the ceiling while his body swayed back and forth. If he continued this way, the entire coliseum would be destroyed. "— BERTHOLDT! CALM YOURSELF!" She screamed, waving her hands wildly.

Two others jumped into action almost immediately: Reiner, who was so small in comparison to the Colossal that he couldn't do much other than throw himself at Bertholdt's leg and cling on for dear life; and Mike, who, in anticipation of something going wrong, had some steam gear attached to his waist. He propelled himself up and at the Titan, using attaching cables for direction and the steam technology for movement.

Reiner's efforts were valiant but futile; though he tried to shimmy his way up Bertholdt's leg, he still didn't have a firm grip on his new Titan body and didn't help to cease Bertholdt's struggling at all. Each movement the Colossal made caused more damage and if they didn't stop him soon, this debacle would cost the government millions if not billions to fix. Mike, thankfully, was zipping up the Titan's large body on his steam gear and heading straight for the nape: Hange remembered him reporting that damage to the nape of the neck would put a Titan out — and if done correctly, it could even kill the person inside. She didn't want to lose one of the few who had survived the Titan bonding process, but there would be others. If needed be, if he proved to be more of a hindrance than a help, Hange was willing to get rid of Bertholdt. She waited down below to see what Mike accomplished.

Mike's job proved more difficult than anticipated, Hange mused; though the steam from the transformation was so thick that she couldn't see much, she knew he was having trouble because of how long it was taking. Seconds stretched into minutes, but finally the Colossal Titan stopped moving — and moments later Mike came zipping down its body, carrying a limp figure in his arms.

Hange rushed over to Bertholdt's unconscious body as Mike set him on the ground. "This match is over!" she commanded in a loud voice, loud enough for Reiner to hear. After checking Bertholdt's vitals, she found that his heart-rate was dangerously elevated, his temperature was back up to a crisp 170 degrees Fahrenheit, and his breathing was shallow, too shallow for his lungs to get cool air to his overheated brain. "Get him back to the infirmary on the floor above us," the brunette snapped at Mike, who nodded grimly and began dragging him off, but paused.

"What about the other one?" he asked hesitantly.

Hange looked up at Reiner, who seemed to be staring up at Bertholdt's steaming Titan body. He hadn't pulled himself out of his own body yet — but she was certain that he still had control over all his faculties. "I'll deal with him," she said back to Mike, gesturing to Bertholdt, whose skin was flushed red by now. "Get this one out of here. Go!"

"Ma'am," Mike saluted, dragging Bertholdt out of the coliseum. Hange turned her attention back to Reiner — and a low rumble told her something very bad was about to happen. As the rumble continued, she could see why Reiner had hesitated to end his transformation.

Bertholdt's massive Titan body was decomposing and would soon crash to the ground. She could see the Armored's gaze darting around, analyzing the scene and making snap decisions on how to react. Hange turned to the other Titan wielders, making some decisions of her own. "THAT THING IS COMING DOWN! Annie! Pieck! Transform and help Reiner safely guide Bertholdt's Titan to the ground; the rest of you, get out!"

Orders were followed immediately; in a zap of sparks, lightning, and steam, the Female and Cart Titans were moving in to assist Reiner as the Colossal began tipping forward, its decomposing torso heading straight for the ground. Annie's Female Titan caught an arm as its joint disappeared, detaching it from the main body; with effort, she set it on the ground. Pieck's Cart Titan was a quadruped with a flat body, perfect for being a pedestal on which Bertholdt's empty torso could fall. The system, Hange noted before following the others out of the arena, was a beautiful one; Annie and Reiner did damage control for any detaching body parts before helping guide the torso down onto Pieck's back so as not to damage the ground floor.

About thirty minutes later, three figures limped into the nearby locker rooms, panting, weak, and drenched in sweat. Hange, Nile, and the rest of the wielders looked them up and down. "You guys look like shit," Ymir commented with a smirk. Nile gave her a withering stare and she shut up.

Hange's eyes were practically glowing as she moved forward, giving them all large hugs despite their appearance. "The teamwork you three just pulled off was miraculous," she praised enthusiastically. "This is exactly the kind of stuff I was hoping to see — you all using your Titan bodies to work together and get shit done. Yowza! That was a sight to see!"

Reiner, despite looking like he was about to pass out at any moment, seemed invigorated by the experience. "I never knew there was such power lying dormant within me…" he murmured, looking down at his hands in awe. "That was incredible. But why did…?"

His furrowed brows and the confusion and worry on his face caused Hange's grin to falter. "We can't anticipate what someone's Titan form will look like, what powers they'll have, or how they'll interact," she said solemnly. "The serum responds to each individual differently. But for now, Bertholdt is alive, and we'll try to keep him that way." Turning back to the others, Hange squinted at them, as if debating what to do. "Mike will return soon after he gets our Colossal friend situated. When he does, we'll have a re-match. Reiner will face off with… hmm."

Zeke had been quiet the entire time, simply watching the goings-on with a critical eye. It was only now that he chose to speak, raising a hand politely while adjusting his spectacles. "I volunteer to match up with Reiner," he said kindly. "It will be a good opportunity to teach him some valuable lessons about using his Titan form."

"Good," Hange replied shortly, getting back to business. Glancing over at Reiner, she poked at his sweaty chest. "You — get some food in your belly, hydrate yourself, and clean up before your re-match. Transformations take a lot out of you and you have to rest and regenerate before you can do it again. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am," Reiner said with a salute.

"Good! We'll figure out what to do with Bertholdt — in the meantime, he obviously won't be joining you all for Titan training. Well done, men — and women — and keep it up!"

Reiner watched Hange guide Director Dok out of the changing rooms, uttering apologies and assurances to him the whole way, then looked down at his own hands, which were lifted and clenched into fists. He had the next hour to rest and relax — but somehow he wanted nothing more than to be in his Titan form again as soon as possible.

XXX

"No, move out of my way — I don't care if you're available — I said get me Krista Lenz!"

"Krista Lenz, please immediately report to intake."

Historia Reiss heard her cover name over the hospital's intercom and she dropped the towels she was folding to immediately rush to the Emergency Room intake. Dr. Spitz, who always insisted on working with Historia and no one else (probably because she was the most competent nurse in the entire damn hospital), had a patient on a stretcher who was violently struggling and frothing at the mouth; Historia set her hands on the body to hold them still and her eyes widened slightly when she noticed the patient was just a boy.

"What on earth happened?" she asked Dr. Spitz, horror in her voice.

"Some sort of poison, we think," he snapped as they wheeled the stretcher out of the intake zone, down the hall, and toward a room. "We need to get this kid on an antidote, now."

When they loaded the kid into a room, a couple of other nurses assisting in moving the struggling boy onto a bed, Dr. Spitz began barking directions, ordering an antidote concoction IV be set up; but upon gauging the boy's temperature, and feeling like she was having some immense deja vu, Historia's eyes widened in horror. Ripped clothing, scalding skin, racing heartbeat. "WAIT!" she protested loudly, checking the boy's pulse and noting his temperature. "Do you see that? 126 degrees Fahrenheit. He should be dead . No, Dr. Spitz, I've seen these exact symptoms before; I know what's wrong with this boy!"

Dr. Richard Spitz was not the type of man that enjoyed being corrected. His rage was palpable in his narrowed eyes, but it was only his respect for Historia's skill that stayed his tongue and gave him an open mind. "... What is it, Ms. Lenz?"

Historia blinked back tears and tried to steady her breathing. "For now, we need to put him on a saline I.V. to keep him hydrated — but otherwise there isn't much we can do. However… this is very important… I need to speak with General Erwin Smith."


	8. Chapter Seven: Take Me Over

_**Impetum Terrae: Attack on Earth**_

**Characters: **Reiner Braun (Captain, Marines)

Historia Reiss (military nurse, president's daughter)

Bertholdt Hoover (Master Gunnery Sergeant, Marines)

Annie Leonhart (Special Agent, Secret Service)

Ymir Wikstrom (Private First Class, Marines)

Eren Jaeger (Private First Class, Marines)

Mikasa Ackerman (Sergeant, Marines)

Armin Arlert (Logistics, Private First Class, Marines)

Sasha Braus (Private First Class, Marines)

Connie Springer (Private First Class, Marines)

Jean Kirschtein (Private First Class, Marines)

Marco Bodt (Private First Class, Marines)

Levi Ackerman (Colonel, Marines)

Hange Zoe (Brigadier General, Marines)

Erwin Smith (General, Marines)

Dot Pixis (Admiral, Coast Guard)

Nile Dok (Director, Secret Service)

Darius Zackly (Vice President)

Rod Reiss (President)

*Other characters will be mentioned in the story.

_**Chapter Seven: Take Me Over / Losing Control**_

The second transformation hurt just as much but wasn't nearly as disorienting as the first. Reiner Braun stood now as the Armored Titan, fists up and ready to fight. Across from him was Zeke in a form everyone had called the Beast Titan; and Reiner could see why he was called that. Zeke's large body looked more ape than human, covered in shaggy fur nearly from head to toe. Gleaming amber eyes looked across the coliseum at Reiner; steam still wafted from the few scattered remnants of Bertholdt's Titan and the hole in the ceiling allowed excess light to drift down into the arena, but otherwise the field was still secure. In anticipation of fighting Zeke, who Reiner had been told was the most skilled shifter out of the entire group, when he wasn't worrying about Bertholdt the bulky blond had spent his relaxation hour going over battle techniques and trying to decide what strategies would complement his new body.

The armor had chinks in it, gaps where the flesh underneath was exposed and unprotected; Reiner would have to protect those weak spots with maneuvering, shifting his stance, and parrying. But… he could also use the armor to his advantage. By his summation, Reiner quickly figured out his Titan had more defensive capabilities and sacrificed speed for constitution; essentially, he was a tank.

From what he'd heard from the others, the Beast was similar in height and stature but without the armor or strength; and standing across from Zeke now, Reiner could see it. Zeke's Titan was tall and wide, able to take a hit, but had gangly arms that didn't seem to be good for anything but throwing rocks. He didn't look very fast, either, so Reiner was led to believe that Zeke probably outsmarted his opponents to win a match.

What tricks did he have up his sleeve?

Reiner watched Zeke for a moment, wondering if he was going to make a move first, but Zeke only stood there with his long, hairy arms at his sides, those amber eyes staring at him thoughtfully. Finally Zeke's mouth opened. "You seem hesitant," he commented, his voice a low rumble, as if his mouth was full of marbles.

'That's right,' Reiner thought in awe. 'He can talk!'

"Are you making a battle strategy... or worrying about your friend Bertholdt?"

Bertholdt!

The name brought panic to the blond and two armored hands clenched into fists. Worry weighted his chest and Bertholdt's face stuck itself in the forefront of Reiner's mind no matter how hard he tried to blink it away.

And suddenly something came crashing into his face so hard Reiner was knocked off his feet, skidding to a halt on his bottom. Zeke had thrown one of the Colossal's decomposing legs at him. Shaking off the image of a dying Bertholdt, Reiner attempted to open his mouth and speak — if Zeke could do it, couldn't he? Reiner couldn't seem to get the jaw of his Titan to formulate words, but something else occurred when his cracked lower jaw dropped down: steam billowed out in a short burst, clouding Reiner's vision.

Suddenly an idea came to him: if he could create enough steam, he could also blind Zeke long enough to get a solid hit in. The plan was quickly formulated, and wasn't bulletproof, but it was all he had.

Suddenly something else went flying at the blond and he had to tumble out of the way to avoid being hit. So that was what Zeke did. He threw things. If that was it, why the hell was he considered the best of the shifters? Reiner had seen Annie put up more of a fight.

Perhaps he didn't even need the steam. Reiner recovered from his tumble and charged at Zeke, planning a full-frontal assault — but a long hairy arm extended and put pressure on Reiner's broad shoulder, effectively redirecting him. Reiner had to skid to a halt before he crashed into a wall.

So Zeke did have some moves. Back to plan A: marrow his field of vision and sneak up on him. The Beast was bigger than him, but not by much; dropping his jaw open again, Reiner faced Zeke and summoned up all his energy, letting out copious amounts of steam. The arena quickly began fogging up and by the time Reiner closed his mouth again, the air was thick with hot mist, so thick that even the blond himself could barely see.

But he knew where Zeke was. Lowering his body, leading with his shoulder, and turning himself into a Titan bullet, Reiner prepared to charge —

"Are you sure that's a wise decision? You might miss your mark and end up crashing head-first into a wall."

Reiner froze for a moment. Something in his body didn't feel right… almost like he didn't have control over himself anymore. And despite his reservations, he charged forward, into the steam clouds —

— and crashed head-first into a wall so viciously that the armor on his face cracked. Pain split through his whole body starting at his head and he roared in agony, rumbling the entire coliseum with the noise. Reiner collapsed to the ground in a heap of flesh and bones and, still disoriented and aching from head to toe, he began the process of prying himself from the nape of his Titan's neck. Tendons snapped as he pulled them from his body, covered in sweat and gunk; as he stumbled from the large remains of the Armored, he noticed Zeke retreating from his own Titan body with much more grace than himself.

"What did you do?" Reiner demanded breathlessly, clutching at his aching head and ruffling his sweaty, close-cropped blond hair in the process.

Zeke merely smiled at him, adjusted his glasses, and retreated to the changing rooms.

The other shifters waited for Reiner to join them. "Don't worry," Pieck assured him with a gentle pat to the arm, "Zeke tested all of us too, and our battles all went the same."

"I didn't even have control over my own body," Reiner muttered, still shocked, as they all began filing toward the changing rooms.

"That's what sets him apart," Ymir commented from somewhere in the group. "He doesn't just talk in his Titan form. You didn't figure it out?"

Reiner glanced back at the brunette, brows furrowed in confusion. "Figure what out?"

Pieck hobbled along beside him, using her cane for support; being the Cart Titan, which was quadrupedal, the raven-haired woman had trouble on two legs from time to time. Her voice was quiet, gentle. "Zeke has the power not only to control Tyrannos with his voice — but us, too."

Reiner's eyes widened as they shifted back to Pieck. "What… how is that possible?"

"Your guess is as good as ours," Marcel piped up. "We've been pondering over it for months. Something about the way the serum works, I guess."

Reiner fell silent as they entered the locker rooms, disturbed. Something to do with the serum? Was there something in the serum that connected the Titans to the Tyrannos?

XXX

Vice President Darius Zackly had been in meetings all day, trying to cover up the mess that had been made in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania mere days ago. The President, Rod Reiss, had of course attended all the meetings with him, but if Darius was to be frank, Rod was more of a figurehead for the U.N.G. while Darius made most of the real decisions.

Decisions. There were a lot of those to be made. And he had some tough ones ahead of him; such as arranging a meeting with Xi Jinping, the General Secretary of China and fellow member of the U.N.G. This would be difficult — asking him about the goings on of their serum development while also not placing blame and arousing suspicion would be tricky. Because the Chinese representatives had been the inventors of the Titan serum, they were in charge of its production and disbursement to the facility in Washington, D.C… so if there were any leaks in the web of contacts, if there was any way the serum could fall in the hands of a civilian, the Chinese were — most likely, at least — the ones responsible.

And, unfortunately, that seemed to be the case.

How could he suckle information from the Chinese General Secretary without making him suspicious? Jinping was a shrewd man, very secretive and paranoid; figuring out what the hell was going on without rubbing anyone the wrong way would be quite a task. The last thing they needed while on the cusp of total annihilation was to cause an internal struggle. Keeping the peace was already difficult enough with so many nationalities living together in one country.

"Mister Reiss," Darius greeted respectfully as Rod Reiss entered the meeting room.

"Please, Darius, we know each other better than that," Rod chastised gently, shaking his hand. They'd known each other for a long time; much longer even than their time in government. "Representative Jinping is on his way, I imagine?"

"Yes," Darius replied grimly. "We'll need to be very cautious when speaking with him."

"Of course," the President responded absent-mindedly, taking a seat at a large circular table. "Something else is bothering me about this whole situation."

Darius remained standing, waiting to greet any officials that came in the door… but his eyes were on his long-time friend. "You're worried about your daughter."

"I hid her identity to protect her from the chaos of this world," Rod replied. "I didn't want her getting involved in any of this. And now she's landed herself right in the middle of it all."

Darius pursed his lips. "Miss Reiss, no matter what's happened, is still safest… right where she is."

Rod finally looked up from a spot on the table. "Is she really safe, Darius? Are any of us?"

XXX

A knock came on the door to Reiner's room, disturbing him from the book he was reading. He'd been in his room for about an hour now; immediately after being dismissed from training for the day, he'd gone to the floor above to stay with Bertholdt until he'd been kicked out.

Reiner set his book aside and went to the door, opening it — and was shocked to see Marcel, Porco, and Ymir all waiting there expectantly. Reiner's brows furrowed. "Is something going on?" he asked seriously.

"Yeah," Marcel replied with a grin, his blue eyes flashing mischievously. "You're coming with us. We have something to show you."

Reiner was even more confused now, but grabbed his shoes and shirt, slipping them both on and following the trio out the door and down the hallway. The entire way to the elevator, all the way up to the top floor of the facility, and even sneaking above ground, Reiner was under the suspicion that something was very, very wrong, and had tried multiple times to ask what was going on — but every time, they all waved his concerns away and told him to keep quiet and not get caught.

It was only when the four of them snuck past the front desk in the above-ground building, heading for the doors to escape, that Reiner realized they were sneaking out. "You ever been to a casino, Lieutenant Stiff-neck?" Porco whispered quietly.

Reiner's brows drew in. "Captain," he corrected. Immediately after his eyes widened in understanding. They were sneaking out, breaking rules, to go have fun. All his time in the military had hard-wired Reiner's brain into assuming the absolute worst of any situation; he was constantly in mission-mode, so much so that he'd completely forgotten about having fun. He also realized, irritably, that Porco was calling him names again — not that that was anything new. "It's been a long time, I'll admit… how on earth did you all manage to sneak past all the security cameras? How did you know the code to the elevator?"

Marcel glanced back at Reiner now, grinning from ear to ear. "That's for us to know, and for you to be in awe of, my friend," he answered in a whisper.

"We've been doing this for months," Ymir chipped in over her shoulder. "Now let's go before that rotating camera over there points back in our direction."

Within mere moments, the group was sneaking to the doors, cracking them open, and slipping outside into the fresh air.

XXX

Fresh air.

Being cooped up underground for so long, Reiner had almost forgotten what real, natural air felt like. The smell of rain. The darkening of clouds. The whispering of trees. There was so much he wanted to do now that he had full control over his body again… it felt like it'd been a decade since he'd been a free man. There were endless possibilities…

And they were going to a casino. That wasn't Reiner's idea of a good time, but they'd been generous enough to invite him along so he wasn't going to complain. He wondered if the card in the wallet in his back pocket still had any money on it. If he was getting paid for putting his life on the line in this program. "Do we even have any money to spend in this casino?" he asked them as they all began jogging across the landing pad and away from the building.

"Only one way to find out!" Marcel said back, leading them all to the small nearby parking lot.

When he headed toward a car, Reiner's eyes narrowed and he ran to the front of the group, stopping them all. "Woah woah woah. You aren't seriously thinking about hot wiring a car, are you?" he demanded sternly. "Do you even know how?"

Marcel jerked his thumb in Ymir's direction. The freckled brunette stepped forward, looking up at Reiner with narrowed eyes. "I told them not to invite you because I knew you'd pull some stiff bullshit like this. If you wanna go back like a good little soldier and report us, go ahead; but remember that you'll have to report yourself, too. Now get out of my way, Blondie."

Reiner held his position for a moment, internally debating on what to do, before a sigh left him and he stepped aside. She was right; either way, no matter what, he would get in trouble if they got caught or reported. Might as well relax a little bit, right?

Plus, he was aching to find a telephone. He had a phone call to make.

XXX

MGM National Harbor was filled to the brim with all sorts of people as the group of four parked, showed their IDs, and entered the building. All the sights and sounds were nearly overwhelming as Reiner tried to take it all in. It had been years since he'd been in a casino, and he'd had no plans of ever coming back to one… but it was nice to see that people could still gather and be raucous and have fun even in these trying times. In that sense, MGM was almost a beacon of hope for the human race; the hope that one day, maybe, things could return to normal.

That thought alone was enough to get the bulky blond on board with the others' plan and he followed them further inside. At several machines the group all traded some money on their cards for chips; it was here that Reiner found out just how much money he had.

Certainly more than he'd made as a soldier.

At least this program was good for something. He added another phone call to his list of things to do while he was here. When he turned away with a sack of gambling chips in his hand, Marcel approached him with a grin. "Ready to hit the tables?" he asked. Reiner gestured for the shorter brunette to lead the way, and they began wandering through the tables, eyeing different games. "Porco likes the slot machines," Marcel commented. "Less human interaction. I'm a fan of table games though. Which one do you think you wanna try?"

"I have no idea," Reiner answered frankly, looking around at all the people in the area. He was suddenly feeling a little cramped and out-of-place; for the past few weeks he'd been feeling incredibly tiny after witnessing the massive grace of the Titans and the sheer size of the Coliseum he now lived in. Here and now, compared to all of these people, he felt like an awkward giant. And the stares he got by some of them didn't help matters. Finally he moved his gaze back to Marcel, a question burning in his mind: "why did you invite me?"

"It was actually Ymir's idea," Marcel responded with a shrug. "Said something about getting the stick out of your ass, although I personally never thought there was one stuck up there. I just think you're the type of guy that's very dedicated and responsible."

This brought a smile to Reiner's face. Knowing that at least one other person thought positively about him was encouraging… but something stuck in his brain. It was Ymir's idea to bring him along? Ymir, the freckled asshole who hated his guts? Ymir, the woman who, if given the chance, would curb stomp him until his brains were on the pavement?

Perhaps she didn't hate him as much as he thought.

And for some reason, that knowledge made him hate her a lot less, too.

Reiner joined Marcel at a craps table, pulling out his bag of chips and making a passline bet. He had to admit he only half-paid attention to the game, and if it wasn't for Marcel showing him the ropes, he probably would've been duped out of more than a few chips; as they played, a waiter came by to offer the group drinks and Reiner, feeling uncomfortable, asked the man to keep the beers coming.

A woman came up to his other side and occupied the free stool next to him, placing her own bet on the current shooter and settling her drink on a coaster. Reiner glanced at the glass, analyzing it. Valuables like coffee and alcohol were severely limited and only offered to politicians or the wealthy; so either the clear liquid in her martini glass was something like seltzer water, or she was extremely rich. Judging by the way she was dressed, she either was rich, or she'd gotten extremely lucky in finding such a nice dress. The woman must've noticed him staring, because flirtatious blue eyes glanced sideways at him and a demure smile curled her lips.

Reiner felt his face grow hot. Sure he'd received attention from women on more than one occasion, but he'd always been too focused on his military career to really pursue anything. In fact, the only time he'd ever felt anything more than fleeting lust toward someone was with… Krista. Even as the pretty brunette woman beside him engaged him in titillating conversation, Reiner's head was filled with thoughts of a petite blonde nurse currently back in Pennsylvania.

XXX

"You know you don't need to do this, right?"

Historia nodded. She knew. She knew very well. But she had a duty to fulfill, morals to keep. But she'd be damned if Ymir's soft touch to her cheek wasn't tempting. The freckled brunette stared down at her with that trademark cheeky smirk, amber eyes wandering the blonde's features hungrily. It gave Historia a thrill, watching that expression. "You and me. We can run away, never look back. Just us and nothing else. None of this bullshit."

Historia frowned slightly, her hand coming up to rest over Ymir's own. "I know… but I also know that I can't just abandon everyone."

Ymir's lip curled in a snarl, cheekiness disappearing. "I'm tired of you pretending like you're some little angel! We both know that deep down, you don't care. You don't want to help others, to work in that miserable cesspool of assholes who just can't seem to keep themselves from dying. What about that big blond brute you had to take care of? He wasn't even grateful for everything you did for him."

Historia felt indignant anger rise in her chest. Sure, maybe she wasn't as angelic as people seemed to think, but she really did want to help. And throwing Reiner into the mix was a low blow. "H-He did!" she protested, heat flaring in her cheeks. "A-And if you think I don't want to help others, then maybe you don't know me as well as you think!"

Amber eyes narrowed irritably on the short blonde. "Oh, I see."

Historia didn't like the tone in Ymir's voice, or the mixed emotions glimmering in her eyes. Her own brows raised and her voice became hesitant, almost afraid. "W-What?"

Ymir's hand left her cheek, and Historia suddenly felt cold. When Ymir spoke again, her voice was laced with emotion — but the blonde couldn't read her. "You have feelings for him, don't you?"

Historia's shock registered across her features and she stumbled for words, not knowing what to say or how to react or even how to feel. Ymir didn't give her the chance to explain herself, grabbing Historia by the back of the neck and tugging her in close, an almost possessive look in her bright eyes. "You do. How pathetic. Well, you can tell lover boy that he could never take my place. We're soul-mates, remember? That's what you told me in your mushy little letter. Soul-mates. Flirt with him all you want. But at the end of the day, my sweet little cherub, you're mine."

Historia wasn't sure whether she was excited, horrified, or a bit of both. Ymir had always been very pushy and jealous, but something in the brunette's eyes spoke to how serious she was about this particular situation. Was there something about Reiner that made Ymir feel threatened? Historia tried to take a step back, to figure out how she really felt about all of this without Ymir putting words in her mouth, but the petite blonde couldn't seem to grasp onto any one emotion.

Did she have feelings for Reiner? Even if she did, could she really afford to act on any of her feelings with this chaos swirling around them all?

Ymir finally let her go, taking a step back but still leering at her like a wounded animal trying to recover its pride. "Don't forget me, okay?"

Historia's brows furrowed and she took a step closer. "H-How could I ever forget you, Ymir? W-What are you talking about?!"

But suddenly Ymir was gone, and Historia was left alone in the dark.

Her eyes opened when she felt a rumble stir her from her horrid dreams. As Historia registered her surroundings she realized it wasn't a rumble, but a figure in the hospital bed stirring under the sheets. Historia had apparently fallen asleep in the chair next to it and found a hint of her drool on the sheets — whoops. Wiping the excess from her chin, suddenly alert blue eyes looked over the patient, then to the bedside computer screen displaying his vitals. Falco Grice was his name. His temperature was still a sweltering 135 degrees Fahrenheit, but his heartbeat was much more steady and his other vitals looked good. Great, even — like he could suddenly get up and run a 10k. The more Historia made her assessments, the more convinced she was that not only had this boy somehow been injected with that dangerous government serum… it had worked.

This boy was now a… what had Hange called it…? Oh, right…

A Titan.

Historia's horrified analysis was interrupted when the boy's eyes opened. He looked tired, shaken; leaning back so she could look him in the eye, she gave him a reassuring smile. "Welcome back to earth," she greeted cheerfully. "How do you feel?"

"What… what happened?" the boy wheezed; as if beginning to panic, he began struggling to sit up, attempting to get out of the bed. Historia laid gentle hands on him, firmly pressing him back all while attempting to get him to take deep breaths. Once he seemed a bit more calm and the pressure against her palms lessened, Historia slowly pulled her hands away to give him some space.

"You're alive," she reassured the boy with kindness on her face. "But… we're not exactly sure what happened, either. We were hoping you could tell us." Carefully, she sat back down in the chair next to the bed, watching him attentively. "Do you… do you remember what happened before you fell unconscious, Mister Grice?"

The boy's eyes wandered the room as he struggled to think. "I feel… different," he finally murmured, seeming both afraid and at peace. Like something terrible had happened and he was coming to terms with it. "Like I'm not the only one inside my body anymore."

Historia pursed her lips. She wanted to help him, ease his mind, but it wasn't her place to say anything. It was best for her to leave everything to the military — thru would explain the situation to his family and take him away to that facility where the others were held. Reiner was there… she knew he would look out for young Falco.

But right then, right there in that hospital bed, he looked so miserable and resigned that she made a split-second decision and opened her mouth to speak. "That's… a Titan," she explained softly. "Mister Grice… a lot of things are going on in the world right now, things you're not aware of, but you're about to be dragged right in the middle of it… please," she asked desperately, leaning forward, "please tell me how this happened to you."

The boy looked over at her. Ah, there it was — fear was finally registering and she could see it plain in his blue eyes. "I… I think… I think my uncle Xīngxīng gave it to me… but I… I don't know…. One minute I was playing with my Lego set, the next minute I felt nothing but… pain."

Historia frowned, her eyes moving to the monitor by his bedside. Her eyes scanned his name multiple times but something didn't add up…

"Yeah, I get that reaction a lot…" Falco muttered softly, seeming to already know what was on her mind. "My name isn't Chinese. I'm not Chinese. But my family is. My brother and I were adopted into the family of Wei Fenghe."

Historia did her best to conceal her reaction. She didn't know much of anything about the other countries who'd taken refuge and now lived in the States, but she had heard the name Wei Fenghe before. Spoken by military men who'd come through the hospital. She had to assume that somehow, some way, that man was behind this.

"Thank you, Mister Grice…" Historia patted his arm gently, noting the immense heat radiating off of his skin. Her smile was sad, but she did her best to be reassuring. "There will be some people here soon; people who will take you to a safe place where you can learn more about what's happened to you. The thing you feel inside of you. A friend of mine lives there… his name is Reiner, and he'll make sure that nothing bad happens to you."

Falco's eyes widened. "W-What about… what about my family? Will I ever see my brother again?"

Historia bit her lip. She didn't want to give him any false hope, but she couldn't leave him with fear, either. Finally, she just said, "I hope so."

When Historia finally left the hospital room, she stopped a nurse to make sure the boy would be checked on every ten minutes. Then, she went into a supply closet, reeling from everything that was going on. Falco's state, the mess she currently found herself in, and… the dreams she'd been having. That wasn't the first time Ymir had appeared in her dreams, and it wouldn't be the last. She knew what that really was; Historia missed Ymir, and had no earthly idea if she was even alive or dead.

Wiping a few stray tears from her cheeks, the blonde pulled out her cellphone, and speed-dialed a number she didn't call very often at all. Putting the phone to her ear, the blonde waited for an answer on the other end. When she spoke, her voice was soft, reluctant. "Hello, father."

XXX

It was happening again.

When the others spoke of bonding with their Titans, Bertholdt never had any clue what they meant. He didn't know how to phrase it, he didn't know how to communicate it without sounding like a coward. His was different. His stared at him as if he was prey — not an ally. In his dreams his Titan haunted him, chased him down, never quite able to catch him but always making its greatest effort to. He feared it. It was no friend. It was… something evil. Something that wanted to wipe him out.

And this occasion was no different. Bertholdt wasn't sure how long he'd been in this dream; he'd lost count of the number of times he'd had to evade the Colossal. For now, Bertholdt was hiding. It seemed that hiding was what he did best, especially against this beast. It never could find him when he put his mind to the task. The rumble rumble rumble of the Titan's crashing footsteps continued shaking the ground all around him as the lanky brunette curled up in a small cave, staring out at the desolate wasteland he found himself in. 'This is all because of you,' he could hear someone say. He wasn't sure who it was; his Titan never spoke, but perhaps it had learned communication via telepathy.

Or perhaps it was someone else entirely.

Another voice; this one much less distinct, but much more familiar. "Bertholdt… please wake up."

Then pain. A burning, flaming pain that started in his face and shot all the way down through his body. Despite his need to hide, Bertholdt found himself screaming. Screaming. Screaming.

Screaming. When his eyes darted open, he found the pain to be much less intense than it was in the dream, but he was so frightened and horrified that he couldn't help himself, thrashing under his covers and crying out for help. Strong yet soft hands pressed his shoulders roughly back into the bed and when Bertholdt finally found himself able to focus, he was staring up into cold, pale blue eyes. His gaze wandered — hooked nose, incredibly soft lips…. Ice blonde hair framing her face like a halo…

It was… Annie?

Bertholdt's eyes widened and heat rose to his cheeks, heat that had absolutely nothing to do with his unusually high fever. "A-Annie?" he gasped, staring up at her in awe. Her eyes narrowed on him, a gaze he knew all too well — annoyance. Seeing one of her hands raised now, poised to repeat the action she'd just performed, he realized she'd slapped him. Viciously. The pain on his cheek was confirmation.

"I told you to wake up," she replied simply, her voice that familiar deadpan.

He stared at her just a moment longer, before with surprising strength, Bertholdt broke free from her grasp and threw his arms around her. He hugged her to his sweaty body, one hand going up into her hair, that angelic, soft hair, breathing her in, refusing to let her go. Her voice grew even more annoyed when he pulled her in: "What are you doing — let me go."

"No," he found himself saying without thinking. Bertholdt wasn't sure where this courage came from, but he used that momentum to pull back just enough to look at her. Annie's eyes widened — she'd never seen such seriousness in his green hues before. "I never thought you'd be the one I saw when I woke up," he finally said softly.

Her breath caught. One hand was still raised to smack him, as if she couldn't seem to make herself move; the other was gripping his hospital gown like her life depended on it. "R-Reiner asked me to," she finally managed.

Annie had always, their entire lives, been an enigma. Perhaps she was good at hiding it, or perhaps Bertholdt was just bad at reading people. But in this moment, he knew that she was lying. She'd come here of her own accord. He could feel it in the way she trembled against him. But why?

"Why are you here, Annie…?" he asked, trying to keep his gaze steady on her eyes. It was becoming increasingly difficult to when he could simply lean in and kiss her trembling lips… something he'd wanted to for many years.

Her eyes wandered his face; he couldn't quite read her expression, but he knew he'd never seen it on her before. Finally: "I was worried."

Her voice was carefully deadpan, but it held none of the usual apathy. Had his fight against her changed something between them…? His confession of love? Looking back on it Bertholdt felt he'd been over-dramatic, but perhaps that was what it had taken to break through to her. To break through that hard diamond shell she always surrounded herself with… The hand on the back of her head came around to touch her cheek and while she kept her expression carefully composed, Annie softened against his touch. There was something else in those ice blue eyes.

Perhaps… perhaps she really did return his feelings.

Bertholdt licked suddenly dry lips. The thought of kissing her, especially when she was so close, became increasingly hard to fight; finally, on instinct almost, he leaned in suddenly and his lips met hers.

Annie was stunned stiff for a few moments, unable to respond in any way; but Bertholdt persisted, meeting her lips several more times with every ounce of passion he could muster until the petite, cold blonde was mush in his arms. Hesitantly, almost with fear, she returned Bertholdt's kiss. It was brief, but it was unimaginably sweet; for the first time in his entire life, Bertholdt felt… whole. At ease. Completely without fear.

XXX

Reiner had spent most of the night making odd gambles here and there and flirting harmlessly with the woman who'd approached him at the craps table, whose name he'd found out was Heidi. She was pretty, and he had to admit, being doted on and flirted with after so long was… well, it was nice. But after seeing that he wasn't the type to go home on the first date, she'd moved on to some other schmuck.

Reiner eventually found himself at the bar polishing off his third margarita. He'd sworn to himself that he wouldn't get drunk, that someone in their motley crew needed to be able to drive them all back to the facility, but something about the jovial mood in this place despite the state of the world had him loosening up for the first time in a long time.

Shouldn't alcohol make you feel… happy? Affectionate, or giggly, or something? After his encounter with Heidi, Reiner got to thinking about the dating pool once again… as if he even had any time for dating… was he even allowed to date? Krista crossed his mind repeatedly. Had been for the past several hours. While he was out, he'd wanted to make a call to her… to see how she was doing. To, maybe the next time he was able to sneak out, meet up. Have coffee… or… something. Maybe —

"You look like your tiny little brain is about to fry, Blondie."

Reiner's eyes drifted up to see Ymir sitting down at the bar next to him, smirking. "Scotch on the rocks," she told the barkeep before turning her head to give Reiner a sharp glance. "What's the deal? You look… I dunno, upset. Not that I care."

Reiner's smile was bitter. A sudden thought occurred to him, however, and he voiced it aloud. "Why did you invite me, Freckles?"

Ymir pursed her lips, taking her sweet time with her answer. She received her drink, consumed all of it, and ordered another before finally looking back over at him. "Thought you could use some fun, hard-ass."

"And I thought we hated each other," Reiner countered.

"We do. Don't get your hopes up." Ymir accepted her second drink, taking a sip of it. "But staying in that damn facility all day every day? I wouldn't wish that shit on my worst enemy."

Ymir was very straight-forward with her responses, but something about her posture, her expression made Reiner think she wasn't telling the whole truth. Perhaps her opinion of him, somewhere down the line, had changed. Reiner's own expression softened somewhat. "Fair enough," he said, finishing his drink and ordering another. "Club soda, please," he said. "Need to sober up before going… uh, home."

"Pussy," Ymir muttered.

"You're not the one driving."

"Looks like I don't have to be, since you apparently just volunteered yourself to be our DD."

Reiner squinted. "How the hell do you guys get home when I'm not around?"

Ymir grinned like a cheshire. "Whoever gets the shortest straw has to drive. Then we all say a prayer."

Reiner snorted. "You're all so willing to just throw your lives away, huh?"

The brunette's expression darkened slightly. "Well, when our lives amount to being tested on and turned into ugly beasts, it's kinda hard to give a shit anymore."

The next question came out of nowhere. He wasn't sure why he asked. "... Why haven't you contacted Krista?"

Ymir glanced at him with a raised brow as if she at first didn't understand what he was talking about — then recognition lit up her eyes and she nodded grimly. "Yeah," she muttered, letting the question hang for a few moments. Finally, she let out a heavy sigh. "I don't wanna bother her."

"... That… is the dumbest thing I've ever heard." Reiner leaned in close, suddenly much more intense than before. "You had the opportunity, many times, to contact her, and you haven't?"

Ymir's eyes were dark with anger — but also… guilt. "Do you know what we are now, Beefcake? Do you think I want to involve her any of this? To let her see me like… this?"

Reiner shook his head slowly. "I don't think you understand her at all," he finally said.

"... You want to run that by me again?" Ymir turned on him, rage glowing in her eyes. "I've known that girl longer that your gnads have been dropped. I know her dreams, her aspirations, her fears, her favorite fucking food — I know her real name, you goddamn ass-hat. What do YOU know about understanding her?"

Reiner pursed his lips. Krista wasn't her real name…? That was a zinger; but he still felt like Ymir was missing the point. What he had to say next would hurt… but he felt like he had to. "I may not know her favorite food or her greatest fears… but I do know that she…" he swallowed a lump in his throat, forcing down the rest of his soda. The burn of the carbonation gave him some courage. "She loves you, Ymir. If nothing else… if nothing else, she'd want to know that you're… that you're alive. That you're okay. She wouldn't care about what you've done… or what you've become… she only cares about you."

Ymir stared hard at him for a long moment. Finally, she answered him, her voice low. "Maybe you're not such a gorilla after all."

A hint of a smile curled the blond's lips as he watched the brunette nurse her drink. He had an entirely different reason to call Krista, now.

He needed to get to a phone.


	9. Chapter Eight: Cauterize

_**Impetum Terrae: Attack on Earth**_

**Characters: **Reiner Braun (Captain, Marines)

Historia Reiss (military nurse, president's daughter)

Bertholdt Hoover (Master Gunnery Sergeant, Marines)

Annie Leonhart (Special Agent, Secret Service)

Ymir Wikstrom (Private First Class, Marines)

Eren Jaeger (Private First Class, Marines)

Mikasa Ackerman (Sergeant, Marines)

Armin Arlert (Logistics, Private First Class, Marines)

Sasha Braus (Private First Class, Marines)

Connie Springer (Private First Class, Marines)

Jean Kirschtein (Private First Class, Marines)

Marco Bodt (Private First Class, Marines)

Levi Ackerman (Colonel, Marines)

Hange Zoe (Brigadier General, Marines)

Erwin Smith (General, Marines)

Dot Pixis (Admiral, Coast Guard)

Nile Dok (Director, Secret Service)

Darius Zackly (Vice President)

Rod Reiss (President)

*Other characters will be mentioned in the story.

* * *

_**Chapter Eight: Not Alone / Cauterize**_

Protection. The boy needed protection. And Historia had made sure to let her father know that in the sternest, most "this is the least you could do after putting me in witness protection" voice she could muster. She didn't want this poor, innocent boy being put out on the front lines, and she made that absolutely clear when she suggested the _Titan _program. She wanted him sent there to be _protected _from people who might want to take advantage of his current… status; _not _to be turned into a soldier. He hadn't asked for any of this.

Her father had made a thousand promises to do everything he could for the boy after probing her for all the information she had. Historia told him of the boy's adoption into the family of Wei Fenghe, of Uncle "Xīngxīng," and of her suspicions. "That boy is _scared, _Father," she added fervently. "Please, _please _protect him. He didn't ask for any of this. I know you can do _something."_

Toward the end of the conversation, she got another call and quickly said her goodbyes, switching lines. The number wasn't in her directory but it looked like it was coming from some sort of… _casino… in Maryland? _She was tempted not to answer but something told her to press the little green button on her phone anyways. "H-Hello?" she greeted hesitantly.

"Oh, man… it's so good to hear your voice."

Blue eyes lit up with recognition and her expression brightened considerably. A slow smile spread across her lips and she held the phone a little closer. "R-Reiner? Is that you?"

The other voice was its usual rough baritone, but laced with such kindness that she felt like she wanted to cry. "Yeah; it's me. I don't know how they managed it, but we're outside the facility and I was somehow able to get a hold of you for a minute. Listen — I know it's a helluva stretch — but do you think you could get here? To Maryland?"

Her brows furrowed. "W-Wait — who's 'them?' Maryland? What's gotten into you? I was so worried about you — I-I mean, well, _all _of you —"

A small chuckle on the other end of the line. "I've missed you. I think about you every day…" A shuffle. Historia's heart fluttered in her chest and she waited breathlessly for him to continue. "Krista, there's so much I have to tell you. About what is going on around here."

She bit her lip, gripping the phone desperately now. "W-What about… Ymir…? Is she…?"

Historia could almost hear the growing smile in the tone of Reiner's voice. His next word made her heart leap into her throat and it took all she had not to flop back against the wall and cry.

"_Yes."_

As it was, she stifled a sob and forced back hot tears, smiling so hard she thought her cheeks would crack open. "I-I can't believe it," she stuttered, sniffling. Her voice dropped to a grateful whisper. "Reiner… _thank you."_

"I don't have long to talk, I'm sorry," he continued, his voice still low. "So… do you think you can make it to Maryland? The Wydown Coffee Bar on 14th street."

Historia nodded — then realized she had to give a verbal answer. "When?"

"Next week? This time, same day."

"Okay. Okay. Yeah, I can do that… but Reiner, I have to tell you something about —"

There was another shuffle on the other end of the line. "I-I'm sorry, I have to go — tell me when we meet up? Krista, it was good to hear from you. I'll see you soon. I guarantee it."

_Click._

Historia slumped. "I need to tell you about Falco," she said into the static. "I need you to help him, Reiner."

She reluctantly put her phone away and sighed, taking a moment to lean back against the wall and catch her breath. The petite blonde was dizzy with revelations; first and most importantly, _Ymir was alive._

_**Ymir was alive.**_

The thought of seeing the brunette again brought another smile to Historia's lips and she couldn't seem to wipe it off and put on a professional expression no matter how hard she tried. Did Reiner call her just to tell her all that? Had he risked himself getting in trouble to relay that info to her…? Gratitude filled the blonde's heart and she felt warm all over; both for Ymir and for Reiner.

Finally Historia was able to compose herself and she left the supply closet, moving down the hallway and directing herself back toward young Falco's room. She wanted to check on him again; she couldn't imagine how he must've been feeling, so she wanted to make sure he knew he wasn't alone… that someone was there for him.

She made a quick stop in the cafeteria, a smile still on her lips, and grabbed two cups of Jell-O and two spoons to tote over to his room. "I got us some Jell-O, I figured we —" she began as she entered the room, but paused, brows furrowing.

His bed was empty.

Historia ran over to the nurse's station, checking the files on the nearest iPad. "Falco Grice hasn't been discharged, has he?" she demanded of the nearest nurse.

"Not that I know of," the woman replied.

"His family? Has his family come for him?"

"Last I heard the mother and brother are on their way."

"But not HERE?"

"No, I — wait, where are you going?!"

Historia threw down the iPad and began charging through the hospital hallways, eyes searching desperately. He couldn't have gotten far; she hadn't been gone that long, had she…? Stopping at another nurse's station, Historia pointed at the nurse sitting there. "Call a Code Pink! Patient Falco Grice is missing. Call it NOW!" The nurse scurried to pick up the phone at the desk and Historia dashed off, still looking and alerting every available staff member along the way. She'd comb this hospital through and through for him if she had to.

_He couldn't just be… gone._

* * *

Sneaking back in had been the same as sneaking out; it required some stealth, but four trained soldiers were easily able to achieve success. As they quietly snuck inside, Reiner noticed the giant hole in the floor in the middle of the building, and his expression grew grim as he realized where it was from. Equipment surrounded the hole; it seemed the government was already quickly making repairs on it.

Reiner reminded himself to check on Bertholdt as soon as he was able.

As they headed down, down, down, Marcel grinned over at Reiner. "So; fun, right?"

Reiner's expression softened just a bit. "Yeah, actually. It's a good thing I sobered up, though, or we would've never gotten here."

"Porco's a pretty good drunk driver," Ymir commented with a smirk. "We woulda been just fine without you, Beefcake."

"Says the one who can barely stand up, _Freckles." _Reiner's retort made Ymir's lips curl into a nasty snarl and she gave him the middle finger.

Marcel, also somewhat wavering on his feet, leaned on Reiner for support, still grinning. "So Reiner — was it… fun enough to do it again?"

Reiner half-grinned. "Actually… I was going to ask about sneaking out next week. Same time."

"It's a date!" the dark-haired soldier slurred, earning an irritated look from his ginger-haired brother. Marcel then went off on some drunken tangent about something crazy that had happened at the casino — which may or may not have been true. It was enough to get Ymir howling with laughter, and even Reiner couldn't help but chuckle.

Over the course of the time he'd been here, Reiner noticed that Marcel was a genuine person. He was always authentically himself; a big brother type that everyone seemed to get along with. If the blond was being truly frank, Marcel was the glue that held the whole group together; if an argument broke out, he was the mediator. If someone needed some extra training or help with learning something, he was right there to assist. He was the type to give his last bite of food or the shirt off his back if someone needed it…

And Reiner wanted to be like that.

More than anyone else in their little motley crew of monsters, Reiner found himself looking up to Marcel. Though he'd spent quite a bit of time with Marcel, training usually, he'd never really gotten as close to the ravenette as he'd wanted — and Reiner blamed himself for that. He was the type to shove everything down… to shut people out and keep them at a distance. Perhaps it was because he didn't want to hurt anyone. Maybe that was just the way he was raised; his father sure as hell was a brute and valued the bottle more than his family, and Reiner's mother had drilled it into his head that he had to be a hero in order to amount to anything. To be tough, and strong, and resilient. Maybe this was just Reiner's way of coping with it.

Truth was, he didn't really know _what _it was.

As they rode down to the underground complex and the bulky blond's attention remained inwards, his expression grew increasingly dark. Invasive thoughts began lingering at the edges of his mind with clawed hands ready to latch on.

_Two hundred and three._

No matter where he was or what he was doing, the number Annie had given him always seemed to worm its way into the forefront of his brain. Two hundred and three people had died from the government's failed experiments. How many more had been sacrificed since he and Bertholdt had entered the program? How many more _would _be sacrificed until this nightmare was over? Was _two hundred and three people not ENOUGH?_

"Hey, you okay?"

Marcel's voice broke Reiner out of his near panic attack and widened golden eyes looked down at the shorter soldier in shock. Marcel's grey-blue eyes were filled with concern as he watched Reiner, waiting for an answer.

"This is nothin' new," Ymir cut in impatiently as the elevator doors slid open. "Let the Beefcake brood. I'm sure his butt-buddy being in a coma is real distressing for him."

Reiner's eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched as he kept his mouth shut, following the others out and sneaking back to the barracks hallway. Arguing with the freckled brunette was nothing short of yelling at a brick wall, and he had no more energy to deal with her. He didn't know why Ymir had to be so snotty even after the little heart-to-heart they'd had at the bar; all he knew was that he was starting to regret the little nice deed he'd done at the casino.

* * *

"M.G. Sergeant Hoover," Hange Zoe greeted in a business-like tone as she entered the infirmary area. Bertholdt, still feeling slightly feverish and weak, lifted his head from his pillow and the soldier in him had to salute even if his arms felt like jello. The bespectacled brunette gave him a stiff nod before taking a peek at the medical chart hanging from the foot of his little bed. "Says here your fever has gone down somewhat; at least enough that you're not in danger of death," she commented nonchalantly.

Bertholdt hung his head. He knew why Hange was here; in what was supposed to be his fight against Reiner, he'd screwed up. Majorly.

He'd… _lost all control._

Gleaming auburn eyes focused on him and Bertholdt could feel his temperature rising again just from the way Hange was staring at him. "You know what I'm going to ask, don't you?"

He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "Y-Yes ma'am, I —"

Before he knew it, Bertholdt's collar was being grabbed by the Brigadier General and he could hardly breathe with the pressure she was putting on him. Fury glinted behind her glasses as she roared, "what the FUCK HAPPENED IN THERE, SERGEANT?"

Fear struck down Bertholdt's spine and settled in his stomach, green eyes widened as his mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish. What could he say? _What could he say? _"I PANICKED!" he finally burst, startling even the crazy-eyed Brigadier General. Hange loosened her grip on his collar, blinking. "You've heard about the dreams we have, right?" he continued, breathless and distressed; Hange looked at him with a blank expression as he continued: "well Reiner talked about his dreams making him feel… _powerful. _How he and his _Titan _bonded together. How the fear disappeared."

"I'm guessing your dreams are different," Hange murmured.

Bertholdt looked away, green eyes scanning the wall, desperate for an anchor to latch onto to keep him from losing control once more. "My _Titan… _it doesn't want to bond with me," he whispered. "It wants… it wants to… _consume me."_

After a moment's silence, Bertholdt felt the brunette release her grip on his shirt and she took a step back, seeming to consider the situation. When Bertholdt's gaze finally shifted to her face, he found Hange's expression to be pensive. "Your _Titan, _Mister Hoover, is just an extension of your own consciousness," she explained, voice oddly quiet. "If it will not bond with you… then that means that you are holding _yourself _back."

Bertholdt's eyes widened. What she said made sense… but it felt so _real. _Like there was a separate entity inside his mind, trying to take over. Was it really himself? Was it really just his own fear threatening to consume him? Before he could utter a question, Hange continued, her tone leaving no room for argument: "I'm discharging you from the infirmary since your life is no longer in danger. But I _implore _you, Sergeant Hoover, to _get your act together. _I don't care what it takes. Because if you don't… well; the government, and humanity, have _no _use for a soldier who's a _liability."_

She turned and left, leaving Bertholdt stunned into silence.

* * *

Despite being mostly deaf due to the helicopter's whirling propellers keeping them all in the air, Reiner looked over at Bertholdt, who stood next to him with a nervous yet determined expression and a half sweat-soaked shirt; opening his mouth, the blond yelled, "you seem different!"

Bertholdt glanced over at him with widened green eyes but made no reply. Leaning in, Reiner repeated loudly, "You seem _different!"_

"I-I don't know," Bertholdt responded, barely coherent over the helicopter's blades. "I hope so."

A voice from the cockpit drew Reiner's attention away from his newly-recuperated best friend and he heard Mike say, "you have ONE HOUR to clear the Tyrannos from this town. We need to make the Trench more survivable for our soldiers, and the first step is to make way for another safe depot closer to the actual _wall. _Essentially — we're going to begin _taking back South America, _and this is the first step. We need to know if taking back the coast is actually _doable_. Think of this as a practice run, soldiers. All Marines on the ground have been ordered to head back to Trench Outpost in the Talamancas to give you all a little room to… _play."_

Reiner wasn't sure how to feel at that exact moment, considering many emotions were clawing at his chest, begging for top spot; maybe the fear of the unknown — this was the first real mission he'd been on since Marrakech. Or maybe he was excited at the prospect of finally taking back the lower half of the Americas. Possibly wary… because no matter what good he was doing, the government had officially earned a spot on the list of 'bad guys.' Anyone who would experiment on and kill innocent people, even for the 'greater good,' sure as hell didn't deserve a medal.

No matter the other emotions, Reiner could certainly feel one over the rest: _anticipation. _Eagerness to use his newly-regenerated legs to jump rooftops, longing to administer powerful _Titan _fists to crush those vicious aliens to _dust. _

Shaking away all of his doubts and concerns, the blond focused on the present. On his current mission. Bit by bit, they were _taking back the rest of the world. _And that sense of purpose filled him with a vigor he'd never felt before. Mike's voice interrupted his self-analysis. "Remember: you have ONE HOUR. Try not to damage buildings if it can be helped. This is your first official mission, so work as a team, get the job done, and _do not leave anyone behind. _If a humanoid Tyrannos is spotted, you are to make every effort to _capture _it, not kill it. Understood?"

"YES SIR!" the six soldiers replied in unison, before shouldering their parachutes and jumping from the copter one by one. Reiner was the second to last to jump out; before doing so, he glanced back at Bertholdt, whose hair was matted to his sweaty forehead.

"You okay?" the blond asked, brows furrowing.

Bertholdt nodded, looking a little more determined than before. Reiner nodded back and suddenly he was falling, falling, falling.

San Vito, at one point in history, was probably an incredibly beautiful place. Much like Marrakech, it seemed to be used as a tourist attraction — from his spot in the sky he could clearly see which areas of the valley city were for tourism, and which were for the poor natives. Tyrannos, it seemed, didn't care about humanity's societal expectations; they were in all parts of the city, sniffing around, fighting with each other, and looking for human flesh. Deploying his parachute, the blond watched the others. Marcel was the first to land, and mere moments after setting foot on the rooftop of an old brick building, energy struck down and his _Titan _was emerging from the steam; the _Tumbler Titan, _as the gang had come to call him over the past few weeks. In fact, one night over dinner, Marcel had insisted that they come up with names for _all _of the _Titans; _some of them were almost laughable, but at least they were accurate. Seeing Marcel's _Titan _body filled Reiner with a new vigor and he was more anxious than ever to get to the ground and kick some Tyrannos ass.

By the time Reiner set foot on the beach, his boots sinking into the sand, all of the others had scattered about the city and transformed. He could hear the thunderous thud of all their footsteps, and Ymir even let out a bloodthirsty roar from somewhere to the west. Bertholdt landed beside Reiner, wobbling on his feet and panting heavily. As the brunette adjusted the steam gear at his waist and the rifle on his back, Reiner said, "Alright; remember, all you have to do is offer support. If one of those filthy Mutts lands on one of us in a place we can't seem to get to, or gets too close to a nape where we're weakest, kick their ass. And most importantly: _communication. _Without you, we'll be doin' this blind. Don't worry, buddy, you can —"

"I _know, _Reiner," Bertholdt interrupted, his voice soft but filled with an annoyance Reiner rarely heard. Stunned into silence by his friend's sudden strength, Reiner pursed his lips and simply nodded, putting a hand on the other soldier's shoulder encouragingly.

As if sensing his own irritation and struggling to fix it, Bertholdt's brows lifted and he watched his friend with a hint of a smile. "About what you said on the helicopter… You seem different, too," he commented.

Reiner's lips couldn't help but tug into a half-grin. He knew what — or rather, _who _— was the catalyst there. A beautiful woman with golden hair and aquamarine eyes flashed through his mind; about a week ago, he'd done probably the kindest deed he'd ever accomplished in his life.

"_Why the hell are you taking me to some run-down old coffee shop? I thought we were going to go back to the casino. You really are dumb as a bag of rocks, Beefcake — hey, get your hands _off _me!"_

"_Would you just shut up and go along with it?" Reiner hissed through gritted teeth, shoving the brunette inside and practically forcing her over to a table. "Do you always have to be so goddamn difficult?"_

"_I _pride _myself on it," Ymir snapped, crossing her arms stubbornly as she plopped into a chair. "You gonna tell me why we're here or shall I start screaming for help?"_

"_Like _you _need help," Reiner growled, starting to regret his decision. Maybe this wouldn't work out. Maybe it would be a catastrophe. Maybe Ymir would strangle him in his sleep for telling Krista she was alive. Checking his watch, the blond felt an anxious jittering in his stomach; not just because this could go horribly wrong, but because he was nervous to see Krista again. "I'll be right back." Giving the brunette a warning look, he went back through the front doors and stood outside near the sign: 'Wydown Coffee Bar on 14th.'_

_It wasn't long before a small car parked in the mostly empty parking lot; Reiner's brows raised in surprise. It was a rather nice car, which was pretty rare _— _if a person had a car at _all, _it was usually an old one on the verge of breaking down. Reiner and the others had been lucky enough to get a hold of a nice government employee vehicle to go on their weekly excursions. _

_How was a military nurse able to afford a Prius?_

_Reiner's confusion disappeared when he laid eyes on the petite blonde that got out of the car. He wasn't quite sure why, but he felt his heart beating faster, sweat forming on his forehead, and he couldn't seem to… stand still. And the expression on Krista's face when she saw him made his heart want to burst right out of his chest and flop around on the pavement; her blue eyes brightened and a joyous smile curled her lips. Krista hurried across the empty parking lot over to him and before Reiner knew it, her little arms were curling around his middle and her face was buried into his shirt._

_His cheeks had to be tomato red at this point. Blushing furiously, Reiner stared down at the petite woman in shock before he wrapped two strong arms around her, holding her tightly to him. He couldn't remember how many times he'd imagined hugging her close; ever since he'd laid eyes on the kind woman, he'd waited eagerly for the day that this might happen. _

_And now it was. Reiner swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and one hand drifted up her back to curl his fingers in her hair, relishing in the feel of the golden strands in his grasp. She was soft, she was warm, she was sunshine. When Krista pulled back to stare up at him, her gratitude was evident in her radiant smile. "I-It's so good to see you, Reiner," she whimpered, watching him with glassy blue eyes. "T-Thank you… thank you for telling me about Ymir…"_

_Reiner found himself smiling from ear to ear, despite himself. It felt odd to smile so big, especially in this hell of a world. "Well," he replied warmly, "I'm not through yet. Come inside with me?"_

_Krista seemed fully confused now, but she eagerly agreed with a nod of her head and he placed a hand on her back to escort her inside. Opening the door for, Reiner gestured toward the booth he'd reserved. Krista turned her head to follow his hand; when her eyes met with the person sitting in the booth, they widened and filled with tears. "Y… Ymir?" she whispered, seemingly frozen in place._

_Still smiling warmly, Reiner pushed her forward gently. "Go. __**Go."**_

_By the time, Ymir had finally looked up from her sulking and her own eyes widened. If nothing else gratified Reiner, it was the comically shocked look on the brunette's face. The two women met in the middle, arms thrown around one another while Krista sobbed into Ymir's shirt. Ymir, who Reiner assumed had never cried in her whole life, was shedding tears as she clung to the blonde. "You're alive," Krista cried, hands going up to caress Ymir's freckled cheeks. "You're here! Right in front of me!"_

_Ymir laughed softly as the other woman brushed stray tears from her tanned cheeks. "Stop crying, you big baby," she teased with a sniffle._

"_Y-You first!" Krista replied indignantly, still smiling. "I've missed you so much, Ymir…"_

_Ymir stared down at the blonde, biting on her lip. "I'm sorry, Historia," she murmured, a hand coming up to run through her golden locks. "I'm so sorry."_

_Reiner had been watching the exchange with shining eyes. Thinking about this moment for the past week, he imagined he'd feel a pang of jealousy, watching their reunion; but he only felt… content. In that moment, he realized that even though he had feelings for Krista, all he _really _wanted… was for her to be _happy.

_But Ymir's statement brought Reiner out of his satisfied reverie and he blinked in surprise. Historia… Ymir's angry honey-colored eyes flashed across his mind as she berated him at the casino bar. _"_**I know her real name, you goddamn asshat!"**_

_So that was it, then. __**Historia.**_ _Reiner let the name run through his mind on repeat as Historia busied herself planting excited kisses all over Ymir's face while the freckled brunette laughed with a joyful expression Reiner had never seen on her before. After another few moments, Historia came back over to him, taking his hand and leading him over to the table. "I have something to tell you both," she said, her expression becoming more serious. "Actually, a favor to ask, really."_

_Reiner nodded and slid into the booth across from the two women, who sat very close to one another. Ymir put a protective arm around Historia's shoulders, focusing on the petite blonde as she seemed to mull over her thoughts, considering what to say. Finally, she let out a sigh. "Could we… get a drink?"_

_Ymir's gaze darted down to the menu that sat on the table, lips pursing. "You know, why name yourself 'Wydown Coffee Bar' if you don't even sell coffee?"_

_Historia lifted a finger and explained in a matter-of-fact tone: "this place was established before the Great Migration! Basically, it's been here for over a hundred years! Obviously the floors have been redone since then…" she trailed off, blushing in embarrassment._

_Reiner and Ymir exchanged glances: neither of them said a word, but they were thinking the same thing: _'so cute…'

"_Well, I think I'll get chocolate milk then, god knows they won't let us have that at the facility," Ymir decided, sitting back in the booth comfortably. "Go make an order for us, Beefcake."_

_As Reiner got up, Historia dug into her wallet hastily. "I-I'd like a fruit tea! Here, this should cover it _—"

_Reiner waved the money away. "Don't worry about it." Getting up, he went to the front counter to make the order and paid, before heading back to the booth. As he sat back down, Historia seemed to be deep in thought again._

_Petting her golden hair, Ymir watched her with an uncharacteristically soft expression. "You said you had something to tell us, right? Spit it out, Pipsqueak."_

"_Wait," Reiner interjected. "Your real name… it's Historia."_

_The petite blonde flushed. "I-I'm… I'm so sorry I had to hide that from you, Reiner. My father has made me keep my identity a secret to protect me… Ymir is the only person who knows. The only one."_

_He pursed his lips. "So… who are you, then?"_

"_My full name…" she lowered his voice so that only he and Ymir could hear. "... is Historia Reiss."_

"_Reiss?" Reiner blinked. "As in…?"_

_She nodded, chewing on her lip._

_He sat back in his seat, taking the information in for a long minute. Finally, he said, "explains the Prius."_

"_Now that your curiosity is satisfied, Blondie, can we please get back to what Historia needed to say?" Ymir demanded impatiently._

_Historia shot a look at the brunette before letting out another sigh. "A-Alright. Well… I don't know if you heard about it since you both are kept in that facility… but… a little boy was given the _Titan _serum."_

_Reiner's eyes widened. The horror on Ymir's visage matched his own. _"What?" _they echoed._

_Historia's expression was grave. "He didn't remember how he was given the serum… he didn't remember _anything. _He ended up in Ohio Valley of course, and I tried to help him… he ran away, but I tracked him down. Talked to him. Eventually his family came to see him… but they're probably going to take him to the _Titan _facility. I don't know if he'll be trained for combat or anything… but… I'm so scared for him," the blonde whispered, tears brimming in the corners of his eyes. "He's just a child! Ymir _— _Reiner _— _please… if you see him at all, please help him. He feels so lost and alone… and confused. I don't want that innocent boy to be another casualty of this war _—"

"_Shhh," Ymir hushed the blonde, who'd broken into tears. A server delivered their drinks but Historia was too preoccupied with clinging to Ymir's side to even look at her tea. _

_Reiner, on the other hand, was gripping his mug of hot tea a little too tightly. "A boy…" he muttered, expression dark. Annie's confession that night came to the front of his mind; how many people had given their lives to the _Titan _program. And now someone, presumably military or government, had gained unauthorized access to the serum and had given it to an innocent boy. _

_Just how far would these people go? And what was their goal?_

_With intensity behind his amber eyes, Reiner leaned forward on the table and stared at the women across from him. "Tell me everything you know about the boy… Historia."_

Reiner's grin faded as he remembered that conversation; it had been a week and he _still _hadn't seen that boy. He'd thought about asking about him, but where would that land him, going around asking questions? If Reiner got in trouble or got himself hauled off or killed, he wouldn't be able to help the boy when he came into the program, and he sure as hell didn't trust selfish Ymir to be of any use. Reiner promised himself that as soon as he was able to talk to the boy, he'd help him in any way he could; but for this moment… he had a mission to do.

Now: to business.

Pulling the knife from his pocket, he sliced his hand without a second thought; then, pain, and blinding light.

* * *

Historia sat in front of a desktop computer, frustrated. She knew it wasn't her place, and she'd most definitely get in trouble if she was caught trying to find more information, but this whole thing just seemed too… _fishy. _She had no idea where that innocent boy had been taken since his stay in the hospital, and she'd attempted calling her father several times to find out, but had never received an answer. Either he was busy handling the fallout of this travesty, or he was purposely ignoring her. She wouldn't put it past him to do the latter.

_Someone _gave poor Falco Grice that serum, and she needed to find out _who._

Thinking back on their conversation, she remembered him mentioning an… Uncle Xīngxīng? After a thorough search of any government and civilian database she could get access to, she had come up infuriatingly empty-handed. Could it be a nickname or something?

Typing the word into google, Historia was thoroughly confused by her findings, sitting back in her chair and chewing on her lip.

Turned out, it wasn't a name at all: it was a simple _word._

The word Xīngxīng, in Chinese, meant _monkey._

* * *

Three Tyrannos were squished under his foot as Reiner adjusted to his new sight. Bertholdt had zipped away on his steam gear, heading toward the east. Reiner remembered that was where Annie had dropped down; while Bertholdt refused to elaborate on why he and Annie seemed to act a little differently toward one another now, Reiner assumed something had happened between them. _Good. It was about damn time._

Reiner flexed his fingers and toes, turned his head back and forth to test his flexibility. He'd only been able to transform in the newly-repaired coliseum up until now, so seeing the world from his _Titan _body was… incredible. The _power _he held in his large, armored fists was immeasurable.

And now, it was time to play.

First, he took care of the beach. Considering how brightly the sun was shining, Tyrannos were coming in from the sea on anything they could get their paws on: driftwood, abandoned boats, anything. In fact, Reiner mused, surprised, the way they came across the water seemed… almost as if it was _set up. _Either these mutts were smart enough to gather themselves in groups on abandoned ships, or someone — some_thing _— _put them there. _

Were these nasty beasts more organized than humans originally thought?

Reiner made his way into the water, going out far enough to stop any of the Tyrannos in their tracks — there would be no smooth sailing with the _Armored Titan _ruling the seas, he thought smugly. With a giant swipe of his hand, several boats were overturned and many driftwood mutts were drowned. They wouldn't survive long in the water; certainly not enough to make it to shore. As he began making his way back onto the sand, Bertholdt zipped up onto Reiner's shoulder and pressed a hand against the side of his neck, yelling: "Reporting! Annie has cleared the tourism sector in the east, Porco and Marcel are working steadily at the north end of the city, and Ymir has knocked out about half of the west — admittedly, she's destroyed quite a few buildings in the process, but…"

Reiner turned back to face the sea, and his eyes widened at the sight. On the horizon were at least a dozen ships; was this why the Trench was so infamous? Why the hell were there _so many of them? _His earlier suspicions came back into play; there was no way that so many mutts could cross like this without some sort of _organization. _

It was painfully clear that the humanoid Tyrannos were smart enough to know what to do with a bomb — even how to make them — but were they really smart enough to coordinate attacks like this? If that was the case…

… then humanity _really was _at war.

* * *

Plucking a mutt off the roof of an abandoned hotel and throwing it as hard as she could toward the mountains, Annie turned to catch a figure flying through the air straight at her — only to realize it was Bertholdt, using his steam gear to get close to her. Annie made sure not to hurt him as she set him on her shoulder, turning to continue clearing out the area. As ice blue eyes intently searched the ground for more victims, she felt Bertholdt's hand against her neck, fingers curling in her hair. It was an unnecessary gesture, one filled with intimacy rather than business.

Ever since their kiss in the infirmary area, Annie had been entirely unsure how to feel around Bertholdt. She'd always closed herself off, even as a child, and a part of her knew that the brunette had always liked her… but she didn't know how to feel about that. Annie had never been one to make herself vulnerable for any reason; the world was a scary place for a girl like her, and the one thing her father taught her was to _protect herself. _

Perhaps Annie had taken that lesson a little too far.

Still, the fact remained… He was, well, _Bertholdt. _And she was _Annie. _And he'd kissed her; and she'd _let _him.

No matter how she felt, things between them were different now, and she had to take it in stride. She was always one to just go wherever the flow of life took her. As Bertholdt made his report, she lifted a single finger to touch the top of his head, mussing his hair. A war cry came out of the blonde as she spotted a group of Tyrannos on and got back to work, Bertholdt zooming away on his steam gear. It didn't take long for Annie to squash, stomp, throw, smack, and crush the rest of the wandering mutts in the tourism section — her favorite moment of the battle included using one of the abandoned tourist boats to crush a building full of the beasts. Mike had said to try not to destroy the buildings if it could be helped… but Annie had no fucks left to give. They were here to get rid of these pests by any means necessary. She may as well have some fun with it.

Setting her sights on the western side of town, she began picking her way through buildings and stomping any Tyrannos in her way. Next stop: the native village where Ymir was wreaking havoc.

* * *

Reiner stood staring at the sea. Bertholdt, on his shoulder, stood completely still, leaning on the _Titan's _neck for balance; Reiner assumed the brunette was just as worried about what they saw. There could be hundreds of Tyrannos on those approaching ships; where the hell were they coming from? If they really were as organized as Reiner suspected, then taking back San Vito without a solid plan would be impossible.

"This isn't good," he heard Bertholdt say in a trembling voice.

Reiner shook his head, letting out a low rumble of displeasure. Lifting his hands, he made the sign for 'help,' and Bertholdt gave him a pat on the neck. "U-Understood," he replied. "I'll get Marcel. They've done enough up north that Porco should be able to finish it by himself. Hang in there, Reiner!"

And then he was gone. Reiner stood staring out at the sea, a silent bulwark against the steadily approaching Tyrannos. It wasn't too long before he heard a howl from behind him and before he knew it, Marcel had jumped onto his back and was gracefully clinging to his shoulders like a sort of fleshy back-pack. The grunt that came from the _Tumbler Titan _was one of displeasure, maybe even horror — it seemed Marcel was just as concerned about the incoming Tyrannos as Reiner was. He could still hear the others in different parts of San Vito, wreaking havoc as they mowed down all the swarms infesting the place; it looked like only Marcel and himself were responsible for the incoming horde. Hands lifting, Reiner cracked his knuckles in preparation.

Shoving his worries aside, Reiner found himself smirking. Or, well, trying to. Getting to use his fists to pummel boat-loads of those bastards? This would be _fun._

* * *

_This, _Ymir thought as she raced through the streets and wrecked everything she could find, _is true freedom._

She had to admit, this might've been the one good thing that came out of being a part of the _Titan Program. _Being ordered around was a pain in the ass and all of her comrades, especially Beefcake, got on her goddamn nerves, but _this… _roaming the streets and tearing apart mutt after mutt… _this, _she could get used to.

Her thoughts went back to Reiner. She supposed she couldn't exactly hate him anymore… not after what he did for Historia. Ymir had missed that adorable little idiot every moment since they'd parted ways, and seeing the joy on Historia's face when they reunited… it was euphoric. The best she'd felt, probably in her entire life.

If there was one thing Ymir lived for other than herself, it was Historia's happiness. If anyone deserved a shred of joy in this shit-fest of a world, it was that girl. As much as Ymir disliked that uptight blond bastard, she would be forever grateful to him for that kind deed. Snatching a Tyrannos right out of the middle of the street and smashing it against the wall of the nearest building, Ymir let out a roar of delight and continued running — until she almost ran headlong into Annie's legs, the blonde giant skidding to a stop in front of Ymir.

The brunette had no qualms about clawing her way up Annie's legs and onto her shoulder for a better vantage point. Judging from the way the blonde side-eyed her, Ymir was probably having too much fun with this, but she'd been itching to get out, _really _get out of the facility for a while now. To use her _Titan _abilities against something other than Porco or Annie. Letting out another howl of happiness, she took a great leap from her companion's shoulders, launching herself directly into the roof of an occupied building and smashing right through it, ripping apart the smelly occupants piece by piece.

_Freedom._

* * *

Marcel still attached to his shoulders, Reiner took a few steps out into deeper waters and smacked his hand against the waves to disturb the incoming boats; as the armored lower part of his jaw dropped down to open his mouth, he let out a loud, ear-piercing roar.

Perhaps it was an intimidation tactic. Perhaps it was in the hopes that he'd have some hidden power he didn't know about. All Reiner knew was that it was _instinctive. Primal. _Steam came from his opened mouth and he raised his fist to make another pass —

— when a figure emerged from the belly of one of the boats that made him pause. Maybe it was summoned by his war cry, or maybe it had planned to reveal itself all along… but fear raced up Reiner's spine and he found himself frozen, hand in mid-air, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. His legs suddenly felt heavy as mountains and no matter how he tried to move, he simply _couldn't. _

A humanoid Tyrannos stood amidst all the mutts, still as a statue and staring at them intently. Reiner couldn't be sure, because it was much smaller than himself and had no evident eyes to speak of, but he could _feel _it watching him. As if it was the very one that _took his legs from him. The one that took __**everything **__from him._

The boats grew ever closer. Somehow sensing Reiner's fear but not knowing why, Marcel leaped into action and launched himself from the blond's bulky shoulders, landing on the nearest ship gracefully and killing everything that moved. After that boat was overturned, he moved to the next and the next, all while Reiner stood frozen in the shallows, caught in a staring match with the humanoid. As it pulled something from its torso, clutching it in clawed, mutated and blackened fingers, horror zapped up Reiner's spine and all the buried memories of Marrakech flooded his mind in a tsunami of shock. His feet were rooted to the ground, fear grinding painfully deep in his spine as he tried to scream, to take a swing, to do _anything._

_But nothing came out. He stood there, paralyzed with fear._

_My legs… my legs… my legs. My arm. Everything, gone. Gone, gone. An endless pit of fiery despair… I am worthless. All I do is damage._

Marcel was ripping boats to shreds in Reiner's defense. Fearlessly he continued making his way down the line, and Reiner couldn't say anything, couldn't warn him of the —

_Whoosh…_

_**BOOM.**_

Marcel had jumped onto the humanoid's boat, grabbing at its leg with clawed fingers in an effort to incapacitate it; but the bomb was thrown at Marcel in such a way that it went off right inside his open jaws. Reiner's eyes widened in horror and he found himself screaming, screaming, screaming as Marcel's _Titan _was blown wide open, leaving his human body exposed and vulnerable.

Reiner was screaming, but nothing came out.

_Everything, gone, gone, gone. Marcel, gone, my arms, my legs, everything. __**Gone.**_

The Tyrannos mutts gathered around the steaming carcass that laid atop one of the ships, ripping, tearing, eating. Distantly, among the ringing in his ears, Reiner could hear Marcel's screams — his _human _screams as the beasts devoured him, ripping his limbs from his body, tearing flesh and snapping bone. The sounds were sickening but Reiner could do nothing but stare, stare at the humanoid who began limping away with a wounded, steaming leg.

Only when he disappeared down the coast and into the mountains did the blond's _Titan _collapse to the ground in a heaping, steaming pile. Reiner found himself taking in lungfuls of salty water as he ripped himself from the massive body and struggled to the surface… and everywhere around him, the waters were stained red with blood. He wanted to scream, every inch of him, but he could only gasp for air as his feet touched ground and he weakly waded his way back to the surface, collapsing onto the sand. Another attempt at a scream yielded to a tiny croak as he vomited on the shore. Twice. Crawling was the only thing Reiner could do as the others began arriving on the scene; first was Bertholdt, who landed in the sand beside him, setting a hand on Reiner's shoulder.

"Oh god," the brunette whispered, his voice quivering. "Marcel. MARCEL!"

Annie came bursting through a building, sprinting down the shore and into the water. Fingers plucked the mutts from Marcel's carcass, flinging them far out into the water with impunity. Grabbing his body from the boat, she brought him back to shore and left the mess on the sand before turning back to take care of the rest of the boats.

Reiner watched numbly as Bertholdt ran into the steam cloud, disappearing in the mist. Moments later the brunette emerged empty-handed, pale-faced with horror in his eyes. "He's… he's _dead._ Reiner…" he whimpered. "What the hell happened…?"

When Reiner spoke, his voice came out in a pained croak.

"_What have I done?"_


End file.
